Need You Tonight
by freedomatthesea
Summary: Emma Swan is working a job as a bailbonds person at a Boston bar, when she meets a handsome sailor by the name of Killian Jones. The two hit it off from the start and embark on, what they believe to be, a holiday weekend of no strings attached sex.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **I'm not even entirely certain what sparked this fic, I had received an anon last week that was sort of bashing romcoms and endearing stories - which happen to be my favorite genre - and it sparked this, I believe. I'm excited for this little three part fic, that spans the weekend that will change their lives forever. The characters are the same, the situations are similar, just without magic and without Killian losing his hand. I hope you enjoy reading and I encourage you to comment and let me know what you think, it always helps my muse! Enjoy!

* * *

Emma swiped her thumb over the unlock button on her phone, eyeing the photo of the man she was _supposed_ to be on a date with. He had sandy hair, brown eyes, and sparse, poorly kept stubble on his chin. His name was Daniel Rhodes, but he was using the assumed name Ryan Dale – which was the name of the man she'd found on a dating app. But it looked like he was going to be a no show, just like he was with his bail.

The bar was noisy and a little overcrowded, which was exactly why she'd chosen this place for the date. Just on the off chance that Mr. Rhodes was a sleazy as his case file said that he was. She didn't need _that_ much trouble in her life.

"I can't bloody work out why someone would stand-up a lovely lass like you."

The voice caught Emma off guard and it took her a moment to realize that the man was talking to her. She lifted her gaze, turning to find the owner of the voice. Her brows shot upwards as her eyes found impossibly blue eyes (even in the low light of the bar) staring back at her.

"Did you say something?"

The dark haired man flashed her a charming grin and moved from one seat over so he was sitting closer to her. "I did. I was saying," He motioned to her phone, "Gorgeous lady like you, sitting here on a Friday night staring at her phone. You got stood up, didn't you?"

Emma's shoulders sagged, her head canting to the side, "It's not even that big of a deal." She admitted, clicking her phone off and laying it on the top of the bar. "I met him on a dating app." She waved her hand dismissively.

"Well, there's your first mistake." He had the sort of accent that made you want to hand him a phonebook and have him read the entire thing to you. Which was incredibly unfair, because if _Ryan_ did show up, late as he would be, she'd have to stop talking to this one in favor of her job.

Emma brought her beer glass up to her lips, downing the golden ale. "How's that a mistake?"

He shrugged, "People lie on dating sites. You just get one face – the one they_ want_ you to see. I'd much prefer reading someone in person."

_That_ she could admire. "I'm the exact same way." She told him, a slight smile on her lips. "I'm really good at reading people." Her eyes raked over him pointedly, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "He wasn't even my type." Which was only _partially_ the truth.

"Where are my manners," He chuckled, sitting his mug of liquor down before offering her his hand. "Name's Killian Jones."

Emma rubbed her lips together, before taking his hand and shaking it. "Emma Swan." Despite the fact that tonight was _supposed _to be about a job, she couldn't find herself feeling the least bit disappointed that Ryan Dale hadn't shown up. Otherwise she wouldn't have found herself talking to a man that had no right being as gorgeous as he was. "It's nice to meet you." She offered, "With that accent, I'm going to guess that you're not from Boston, are you?"

Unless he was from South Boston – otherwise, he was definitely _not _someone she'd be going home with. She didn't sleep with guys who lived too close to her, just in case they both took the same T one day and he asked why she'd left before he even woke up. She had a pattern and she stuck to it. The scratch was itched and no one got hurt.

"Aye." Killian replied, resting his arms against the top of the bar. "I'm just in town for the weekend."

Emma arched a brow, "Oh?" He really was turning out to be the perfect guy for her tonight. And with the way he kept licking his lips, she had a feeling he'd be _good_. "And what brings to Boston?"

"I'm in the Navy." He explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Seeing as its Memorial Day on Monday, we've been given the long weekend off. What better way to celebrate than to have a few pints in a bar, with a beautiful woman."

That was _twice_ now that this completely stranger had complimented her looks and, while she usually scoffed at the flattery, fairly certain most men only used it to get into a woman's pants, she found that his sounded incredibly sincere – which took her by surprise.

"So, what's your story?"

Emma pushed her fingers through her hair, resting one elbow on the top of the bar. She didn't get that personal with someone. She didn't talk about her personal life, or her job, or _anything_. Only a few of her closest friends had even gotten under her skin enough to know about her past. But this man had something about him that just made it seem easy to talk.

"You know, most men might take your silence as off-putting." Killian quipped, his impossibly blue eyes glinting with something mischievous. "But, I love challenge… Perhaps I should _guess_ what you do."

"Be my guest." Emma countered with an impish grin. "You're never going to get it."

She held his gaze for a long moment, before she watched his gaze sweep over her, her heart rate speeding up as his eyes lingered on her every curve. There was something incredibly erotic about the way his tongue moved behind his lips. The way it pressed against the inside of his cheek, swept over his teeth as his lips parted briefly, before it darted out to wet lips that seemed made for kissing.

"I'm going to assume that your _date_ was part of your job."

Emma's eyes widened, "Are you calling me a _hooker_?"

"That was not what I said!" Killian protested with a laugh, his lips curving upwards with a cocky smile that she either wanted to slap or kiss off of him. "I simply said that I thought it was part of your job."

"And why do you think that?"

"Well, you didn't seem overly concerned about him not showing up. I also caught sight of the dating app you had open and _you_ do not strike me as the sort of woman who uses that site." His eyes raked over her again. "So what do you do… Perhaps you work as a bounty hunter?"

Emma looked around the bar then, her brows creased together. "Alright, this isn't funny… Did Ruby or Mary Margaret set you up to do this or something?"

"_Who_?"

"I'm a bailbonds person… essentially a bounty hunter for assholes who skip out on their bail. How the _fuck_ did you guess that?"

"You're an open book I suppose." Killian motioned for the bartender to fill up his own drink, before looking towards Emma, "You want a refill. I'm buying."

Her lashes fluttered as she stared at him, dumbstruck for a moment before she muttered something that must have sounded like acceptance of his offer, because he motioned to the bartender to fill her up too.

This was not a turn of events she saw coming. She prided herself on being a student of human nature, surveying a situation and visualizing the outcome. But she had not expected the gorgeous Irishman beside her to read her that well. Even if he meant well, that was the sort of familiarity that sent her packing.

She'd finish the beer and then she'd be out of there.

Emma knew exactly what Mary Margaret would say if she were there. How she'd lecture her on always running away from situations that could potentially be amazing. But Mary Margaret lived in an idealistic world where "true love" happened on the first try and you only had to worry about your crazy step-mother trying to steal your inheritance.

Ruby used to be a girl after her own heart. She'd never looked down at her for her nameless one night stands, because she had done the exact same thing up until the moment she met her med-student boyfriend.

"I'm sorry."

Killian's voice pulled her from her thoughts and she forced a smile as she turned to look at him. "What?"

"I didn't mean to pry or… anything like that."

"You didn't." Emma sighed, her shoulders sagging. "It's stupid, seriously. I just don't really talk about my personal life with –"

"One night stands?"

Emma's brows creased together, "_Yeah_." He really was a little too good at reading her. "I hope you don't take offense by that." She said carefully, studying him carefully. His own brows were furrowed together as his gaze dropped to his mug of alcohol. "You seem like a great guy."

Killian shook his head, "It's nothing, lass. I myself am a seasoned traveler into the world of one night stands." He admitted, knocking back a decent portion of his drink. "Comes with the whole different port every weekend, thing."

Silence fell between the two of them, their gazes dropping back to their drinks for a long moment before Killian broke the silence, clicking his tongue against his teeth, "You play billiards?"

Emma canted her head to one side, searching his expression. He still looked apologetic, almost hesitant, but there was still that glint in his eyes that drew her in. He was dangerous in the most innocent of ways. Despite her reservations, she could picture how easily the two of them could get wrapped up in each other, lost in whatever this unusual connection was.

"I do. But do you _really _want to get your ass beat by me?"

Killian's expression shifted into something positively sinful. "_Depends_. If you're going to beat my ass if you when, do I get to spank you if I win?"

Emma's heart skipped a beat and instead of answering him she downed her beer and headed towards the pool table with a coy smile plastered to her lips. She could hear him following behind her and purposely made a show of swaying her hips as she moved.

She was firm in her belief that she could beat him, even without playing dirty, but that didn't mean she _wouldn't_ make it hard for him. Emma curled her fingers around her pool stick, letting them slide down over the wood, mimicking something else entirely. She met his gaze from beneath her eyelashes, a smirk on her lips as she caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Is there a problem Killian?"

"None whatsoever." He retorted quickly, chalking up the tip of his cue stick, before moving to set up the balls. "Though, it's good to see you're as good with your hands as I am with my mouth." Killian quipped, sweeping his tongue of his bottom lip, catching her gaze.

Clearly, playing pool had not been the best decision on her part, because verbal foreplay was _not_ making a quick getaway.

"Do you want me to break or would you like that honor?" Killian questioned, stepping around behind her a little _too_ close.

Emma glanced back over her shoulder at him, "Oh, I'd never say _no_ to being a ball buster." She retorted with no small amount of sass. She moved around the pool table, lining up her cue stick and making her shot. The balls collided, skittering across the table.

"Looks like your solids." Killian commented, leaning against the pool table as he watched the seven knock the six into the pocket.

"You worried? I'm already one in." Emma moved around the table again, trying to size up which ball she should shoot at next. She chose the two, which was precariously pressed against the edge of the table, just a few inches from the pocket, but her line-up was all wrong and it careened across the table in the opposite direction.

"Oh, I'm definitely not worried now." Killian remarked, pocketing the ten and twelve with one flick of his wrist. The rest of his balls were nowhere near the pockets and his second go nearly sent the eight ball into the corner pocket.

"You always play it that close?" She questioned, slipping between him and the table, purposely brushing against him as she moved. She could be a devious tease when it benefited her. "Would have been a shame to end so soon."

Killian hummed, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip. "I always take my time. Maybe I meant to miss that shot. Thought I'd let you get some enjoyment out of this."

Emma scoffed, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye as she leaned over the table, the tip of her cue stick slipping between her fingers as she lined up a shot and pocketed another ball. She turned to look at him, blowing the chalk off the tip of her stick, making certain her gaze never pulled away from his. "Oh, so you're a _giver_?"

"Might be." His eyes raked over her, watching the way she bent over the table again and _almost_ made her second shot. "Guess you'll have to find out." Killian moved around the table then, eyeing the balls, trying to find the perfect angle for his shot.

"A lot of men promise to make the game enjoyable, but they never tend to do well with the follow through." Emma commented, just as he made his shot, and her words _clearly_ through him off his game as the cue ball skittered across the table striking nothing. "Just like that."

Killian's eyes snapped to her face and the look there in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat. "Well, I'm not _other _men."

"Ah, a breed apart?" Emma rolled her eyes, moving around the table. She made easy work of knocking out three more balls, leaving her with the one and the five left to clear off. "I thought you said you were good at this game. Looks like _you_ are going to get whipped."

Killian snorted. "I don't lose that easily." He turned so his back was to the table, the cue stick easily slipping through his fingers as he lined up a shot and made it – backwards, pocketing a ball that _could_ have easily caused the eight ball to fall into the corner pocket.

"_Damn_." Emma breathed out, either marveling at his skill or the fact that the way he had bent backwards had enabled her to catch a glimpse of his bulge. Someone was packing.

"There's every chance I might win." Killian quipped, pocketing all but one ball – putting him in the lead. "You think you could handle losing, lass?"

Emma arched one brow, giving him an imperious look. "You haven't won yet, buddy. Don't be so sure of yourself." She brushed her fingers over his chest as she passed by him, sparing him one last look before she circled the table, pocketing her last two balls. She made a shot at the eight ball, but it didn't even come close to the pocket she was aiming for.

"Let a pro handle this." Killian drawled out, moving around the table like he owned the goddamn bar. He held himself in such a way that made her want to jump him and knock him down all at the same time. He executed the shot so perfectly, the eight ball bounced across the table, coming to rest directly in front of the pocket he'd called.

"Someone didn't give that enough push." Emma smirked as she leaned over the table, called the pocket, and nailed it. He might never admit it, but she knew – without a doubt – that he'd let her win that game. Considering how well he'd played up to that last shot, he hadn't been half-assed until it came down to her winning or him winning.

Killian met her gaze, not looking the least bit disappointed about his loss. "I suppose I'll need to pay up… hmm?"

Emma laughed with a roll of her eyes, "You really want me to _spank_ you Killian?" She moved to stand in front of him, putting very little space in between the two of them.

"Well, I'd settle for handcuffs if you had them… sounds like something your job might require."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Where exactly would I put handcuffs in _this_ dress?" She gestured downwards, motioning to the skin tight nature of the red dress she was wearing.

He pursed his lips, eyeing her thoughtfully, "Oh, I'm sure there's ways to conceal them quite nicely." His voice was a little lower than before, coming out in a gruff tone that had heat blossoming low in her stomach.

Part of her was screaming at her to retreat as fast as possible, but the louder part of her was demanding that she take what she wanted. And that part won out. "Where are you staying _Mr. Jones_?"

"In an absolute rat trap. Why _Swan_?" Killian stepped an inch closer to her, effectively having her pressed between the pool table and him.

She wasn't keen on the idea of having sex with him in some dive. She'd been there, done that, and would rather _never_ go back. But she didn't take guys back to her place. That way they couldn't come back and find her. If they had sex at _his_ place, then it was on her terms if she wanted to seek him out (and she never did).

Emma brought both of her hands up to rest on his chest, completely unphased by the height difference that should have made her feel tiny in comparison. "That's unfortunate." She whispered, her fingers playing with the line of buttons that led downwards. "See, I don't take guys back to my place."

"That is _very _unfortunate." Killian rasped out, his hands coming to rest at her hips. "Because I think both of us want to unwind tonight." His thumbs traced the line of her hipbones, making her shudder beneath his touch.

"There's always the bathroom." She offered, her brows wiggling suggestively.

He made a face. "Not the ideal place for what I want to do to you, lass."

Emma's eyes widened, "Should I be afraid?"

"Depends." Killian said matter-of-factly. "Are you _afraid_ of getting beard burns on your thighs?" Her lashes fluttered and she inhaled sharply, "I'm going to take that as _not_ afraid."

Unfamiliar with the notion, yes – she always ended up with guys who were just in it for a fuck, much like herself. But, clearly, she hadn't been wrong to assume that this one was going to be stellar with his mouth. "They have big single stall bathrooms here." She breathed out shakily. "It could be arranged."

"_Really_?"

Emma laughed, catching her trembling lip between her teeth for a moment before she spoke, "It is pretty busy in here tonight, who knows what's on that bathroom floor." He'd have to kneel after all, if he really was a man of his word. "You can come back to my place, so long as you _promise_ not to try to find me after tonight."

"I'm only in town two more nights after tonight, you wouldn't have to worry about that." Killian told her, his hands sliding up higher, coming to rest at her waist. "I think you and I both _need_ this tonight."

"I think so too." Emma replied, leaning up on her toes – her lips _almost_ brushing against his, before she slipped out of between him and the pool table. "Come on, let's go." She had a feeling that if she'd kissed him, they wouldn't have made it out of the bar.

"We should probably stop somewhere on the way to your place." Killian commented as he caught up to her, keeping in stride with her as they walked towards her yellow bug.

"Why?"

Killian rubbed at the back of his neck, "I don't have any condoms on me."

Emma's brows furrowed together, "So you didn't actually come to the bar tonight to hook-up?"

"No," He replied as he moved around to the other side of the bug, waiting for her to get in and unlock the car for her. "While I _am_ a fan of one night stands, I wasn't planning for any this weekend."

"Don't worry, I'm on birth control and I have condoms at my place." Emma informed him, acutely aware of how full her little car felt with him in the passenger seat. The bar had been too crowded for her to pick up his own distinct scent, but he smelt like old leather and spice and it filled the whole car.

"A woman who's prepared, I like it." Killian pulled his seat belt on, looking over at her as she did the same.

Emma gave him a sidelong look, "Oh, I'm very careful about making sure nothing happens." She had been, ever since she got out of jail, unwilling to have that happen again. "Don't you worry."

Killian laughed a little awkwardly as she started up the car and merged into traffic. "So, how long have you lived in Boston?"

Emma relented to her 'I don't talk about my personal life' motto, which she felt didn't really apply to tonight at all. Because he wasn't like the other guys she'd sought out in bars and at parties. He was different – a good different.

"Hang on," She stated, tapping her finger against the keyboard as she tried to work out how long it had been, "I moved here from Tallahassee when I was nineteen… so I guess eight or nine years?" Emma had done her best with blocking out most of that time period, for her own mental health, letting the details slip between the cracks. But she'd traveled a lot, in between then and now, not staying in one apartment for too long, bouncing back and forth between a new city and Boston.

"So, I'm guessing you like it here?"

"It's nice." She shrugged. "I liked New York, but it was too fucking expensive to live there. Boston has that big city feel to it, without being too pricey."

"By _big city_ feel, do you mean the feeling of just being another face in the crowd?"

"Exactly." Emma retorted, giving him another look, her brows shooting upwards. "Are you a mind reader or something?"

"I joined the Navy so I'd move around, never stay any place too long, blend into the fold. Just another sailor in dress whites." He sighed, scratching at the back of his head. "Once you're used to being alone, that's just what you want."

Emma nodded her head in agreement as she brought the car to a stop at a red light. "Being alone means not having to depend on someone else and not having them depend on you." She had friends, sure, but they didn't depend on her like _someone _else would.

She could see him turn and look at her as she started to drive again, catching a glimpse of him from the corner of her eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit that typically didn't flare up in situations like this. They'd gone and passed the casual acquaintance level, the moment he started asking questions and divulging parts of himself. And not kissing him back at the bar, only added to the anticipation of it all.

Mary Margaret and Ruby would be cheering her on right now, but that little voice of doubt in the back of her head, the one that sounded distinctly like the man that had screwed her up so badly, kept reminding her that she didn't get close to people because she'd only get left alone.

"So why did you join the Navy?" Emma questioned, trying to fill the void of silence.

"I joined with my brother when I was fresh out of high school. He had just made the rank of Captain and he swore to me that this was the place for me. Otherwise, he feared that I'd end up like our deadbeat dad." He paused and Emma wondered if she should change the subject. She stopped at another light, glancing in his direction as he rooted around in his wallet.

"What's that?" Emma questioned, catching sight of purple before she had to drive again.

"My brother Liam's purple heart."

Emma knew enough about the military to know what that meant. "I'm sorry for your loss Killian."

"He died about a year after I joined – I was still in the Academy." The hint of sadness in his voice threw her for a loop. Because she _cared_. He wasn't a nameless conquest, there were strings attached now. "That's when I decided that the Navy was definitely for me, because I no longer had a family and I was free to go wherever I got assigned."

Without thinking Emma reached over and squeezed his hand. "At least you kept moving and didn't let the loss be an end for you." Emma was the same type of person, she didn't let losses define her, she used them to propel herself forward – sometimes for the best, sometimes for the worst.

Killian stroked his thumb over the back of her hand and she was hyperaware of how intimate a touch like that was. But she didn't pull away, not yet at least. He would be gone in a few days, maybe never to even return to Boston. He was the sort of person that she could unload a few loads of luggage with and not have to deal with the consequences.

"We're almost to my place." Emma commented quietly, glancing in his direction briefly before turning her attention to the road. Her hand was still in his, her own fingers lightly brushing over his hand. She _should_ have kissed him back in the bar. Should have kept that heat and intensity between them, the lust. But instead she slipped past him, led him to her car, and now there was something far more tender happening between them.

He was a bit overwhelming, like drowning, and she wasn't even sure if he realized that about himself. Maybe it was just her. Maybe no one else felt the way that he just filled a space. She had seen the sea in his eyes when they'd first met his, saw a look there that held unfamiliar hope in it. He had to have some serious flaw about him. No one got to look that hot _and_ have nothing wrong with them. She wasn't that lucky.

"_Bloody hell_. Is that your apartment complex?" Killian questioned, his eyes fixed on the warehouse that had been converted into apartments.

Emma shrugged, "It's a place to live. I mean, it's nice and surprisingly not that expensive. I live in one that has three rooms and not much to talk about."

"Does it at least have a nice view?"

"You can see the water from up there." Emma told him as she got out of the car. "I've moved around so much that it's just nice to have somewhere to rest my head."

Killian moved around the car to stand next to her, his head canted to the side. "I'd imagine that that bug isn't a comfortable place to sleep." He commented, completely oblivious to just how true that comment was.

And she wasn't divulging.

"I wouldn't know." Emma said quickly, before heading towards the apartment building. Where she was good at reading lies, he was apparently a little too good at reading her. And it made her wonder – was she _that_ apparent? Did she give off something that told people that she was a _lost girl_, that she had no home, no family, and a history that would put Lifetime movies to shame? Or was he just too perceptive for his own good.

They took the elevator up to her place, eight floors of silence and awkward wayward glances towards each other. This was why she didn't delve into her personal life or take guys back to her apartment – because that's how situations get awkward. They knew enough about each other that this wasn't a casual, anonymous fuck.

Emma kicked off her shoes and hung her coat up on the coat rack as they stepped into her apartment. She watched as she strode down the short all, into her open plan kitchen and living room. "That's a killer view. You can see the ships from up here."

"I'm pretty fond of it myself" Emma commented as she followed him into the living room, her hands firmly planted at her hips. "I'm, um… going to run to the bathroom and freshen up…"

Killian's brows shot upwards, nodding his head as he turned back to look at her, "Right. Don't forget the condoms." He quipped, flashing her a charming grin that made her heart flutter.

She escaped to the bathroom, thankful for the moment's reprieve from him. She leaned against the bathroom door, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She was well and truly screwed with this one. He was too much like her girlish dreams of handsome, charming, _good_ guys that seemed like only fairytale book characters.

Emma fumbled in the drawer for the pack of condoms she had stored in a Band-Aid box, labeled "Emergency Kit". You never knew when you'd need a bandage or a condom or two Tylenol. She checked her reflection in the mirror again, giving herself a little mental pep-talk, before she headed back out into the living room.

"I've returned with the goods." She announced as she headed back into the living room, eyeing the dark haired man who had made himself quite at home on her sofa. Emma held up the condoms, one brow cocking upwards as she met his eyes.

"I feel like an idiot for not having had my own." Killian commented, moving his legs to make room for her on the sofa. "But, this wasn't exactly planned for."

Emma gave him a look as she flopped down on the sofa beside him, stretching out to rest her feet on the coffee table in front of them. "Should I feel honored or something?" She questioned, turning her head to look at him.

Killian gave her a look, "Weren't you just there for your _job_?"

"Doesn't mean that something couldn't have happened afterwards." Emma insisted, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked away from him. "Sometimes the itch needs to be scratched."

"You're preaching to the choir there, love." He agreed, letting his hand rest on the top of her leg, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I get that the whole share-and-care thing isn't really your thing. I'd like to apologize if that made you uncomfortable."

Emma sighed heavily, covering his hand with hers. "It's fine, seriously. You don't need to feel sorry because of my problems. I'm actually surprised you're still here. If you can read me as well as you act like you can, I would have left while I was in the bathroom."

Killian's head tilted to the side, searching her eyes for a long moment before he finally spoke. "I get that you're afraid to talk, to open up… I get it, I really do, because I'm not really one to get close to people either. But trust me, sometimes it's good to open up."

"So, what?" Her brows furrowed together as she turned to look at him, meeting his eyes. "You want to just sit here and have a heart-to-heart, get it all out of our systems and… part ways in the morning?"

"I've got till Monday, technically, depending on how many bags we have to unload."

"It's a holiday weekend, I have plans…" Emma trailed off as she cast her gaze down, not wanting to meet his gaze. "I don't have plans actually. My friends all have someone and they're off visiting family and going to cookouts and stuff."

"_See_." Killian squeezed her leg again. "This might be exactly what both of us needed. Maybe we met for a reason."

Emma rolled her eyes with a laugh, "You sound like my friend Mary Margaret, she's always blissfully optimistic."

"So, Emma Swan, have you ever been in love before?"

Her eyes widened as she turned to look at him, "You just dive right in don't you?" He was pushy, in the good way, in the way that she_ needed_ whether she wanted to admit it or not. "No, I have never been in love before." She lied, looking away. It wasn't a complete lie. She had a hard time remembering what she loved about Neal and whether or not she'd just been young and desperate to cling to something that felt permanent in her life.

"_Interesting_." Killian hummed, fiddling with the button of his sleeve, pulling it back to reveal a tattoo on his wrist.

"Who was Milah?" Emma questioned, noting the name that was written on the knife pierced heart.

"A couple months after Liam's death, I was stationed in Annapolis. I got involved with a married woman. In hindsight I think we were both using each other, but at the time I thought it was _serious_. But, her husband found out and…" He glanced towards Emma, meeting her eyes for a brief moment before looking back down at the tattoo. "The jury found him not guilty and her death was filed away as a "tragic accident". Which was bullshit."

"Jesus Christ." Emma muttered, tracing her fingers over the outline of the heart. "I'm sorry."

Killian let out a heavy sigh, "I figured you might be like me in that regard. Had someone you loved, had them leave your life, and made you hard and disinterested in the emotional connection that sometimes comes along with sex."

"Maybe." Emma whispered, ducking her head. "I don't really want to talk about it Killian."

"Perfectly understandable." Killian brushed his fingers over her cheek gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. "We don't have to talk about it then."

She had always been better with the physical communication opposed to verbal. Emma turned to look at him, her hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt, kissing him like she should have back at the bar, before things got complicated.

Part of her had expected that he would be a dud when it came to kissing, despite his kissable lips and clear-cut oral fixation – because something _had _to give. But his only flaw seemed to be his tragic past and penchant for reading her.

Emma wasted no time in moving to straddle him, her knees pressing into the sofa at either side of his hips. Her fingers wound through his hair, fingernails scraping over his scalp as she deepened the kiss. Their lips parted, tongues tangling. It wasn't the fumble in the bathroom like they could have had or even the quick fuck that could have been arranged at the dive motel he was staying at. They knew enough about one another, about the rough pasts they'd led, to give a little more to this. A _more_ that she wasn't used to.

His hands were warm and strong as they slipped beneath the hem of her dress, pushing the material further up her thighs, taking his time to explore her bare skin. One hand fell from his hair, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, wanting the layers separating them to be gone _now_.

Emma rocked her hips, grinding down against him, feeling his hardening cock straining against his jeans. She let out a breathy groan against his lips, the rough material of his jeans, causing delicious friction against her clit, separated only by the thin material of her underwear.

"_Emma_." Killian breathed out raggedly, reaching around behind her to unzip her dress, pushing the straps down her shoulders. She shifted, helping to get them down, the motion giving the tiniest bit of friction, making them inhale sharply.

Emma worked the last of the buttons loose, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, her fingers trailing through the curly dark hair covering his chest. "You still have too many clothes on."

"And we should move to your bedroom."

She arched a brow, meeting his impossibly blue eyes. "What? So you can have me on my back?" Emma traced her finger along his collarbone.

"Well, I'm rather partial to taking charge, but…" His eyes raked over her, "You're _rather_ sexy like this." He leaned up and stole a kiss, nearly taking her breath away with the need she found there in the gesture. His fingers were winding through her hair, holding her steady as he slanted his mouth over hers.

She used his shoulders as leverage to push herself up on her knees when he slipped his free hand down between them, jerking his zipper down and working the button open.

Killian broke the kiss, his breathing coming out ragged. "God you're _wet_." He breathed out, turning his hand over so his fingers could brush over her cloth covered folds. Her underwear were soaked with her want and his every touch mad her slicker with need.

"That's because I want to _fuck_ you." Emma hissed out as he pushed her underwear aside, his bare fingertips ghosting over her aching flesh. She shifted, rocking into his touch, wanting more of whatever he was willing to dole out.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, her head falling back with a breathy moan of his name as he pressed a single digit into her, curling it just right – like he _knew _exactly where to touch her. His thumb pressed against her clit, still partially covered by the cotton of her underwear.

"_Killian_." Emma's eyes fell closed, her lips parting with a soundless moan. She wasn't used to this sort of doting. She was used to her own two hands, taking up for the slack for whatever she didn't get from a guy. But _this_ was not something she was used to at all.

"That's it, lass." He rasped out, his voice low and rough, the want clearly evident in the way he spoke. "That's it, _Emma_, fuck yourself on my fingers, just like that." He pressed a second finger into her, curving it just right to meet that sensitive spot within her, working her towards release as she ground down into his touch.

Her nails bit into his skin, leaving angry red crescent marks in their wake. She cried out, completely unprepared for her release that washed over her in mind numbing waves of pleasure. If _that _was what he could do with his fingers, she could only imagine what she could do with his cock.

"_Fuck_." Emma muttered as she cracked an eye to look at her, met with a cocky proud-of-himself grin. "Shut up." She told him as she leaned over and grabbed the pack of condoms. She was well past done with waiting – she wanted _him_. His fingers had been little marvels, but she wanted to feel that cock of his that was straining beneath his boxers.

Killian cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her taut nipples, teasing them as he watched her tug his boxers down, freeing him from the confines of the material. His head fell back against the sofa the moment her fingers curled around his shaft, stroking him _slowly_ before she rolled the condom onto him.

Her name slipped past his lips in the form of a low groan as she sank down onto him. Emma kissed him again, silencing her own sounds against his lips. His hands dropped to her hips, holding her steady as they found a rhythm together. Killian was so intent in making sure _she_ was getting something out of this. One hand cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, while the other teased her sensitive flesh, just above where they were joined.

Emma pressed her forehead against his, trying in vain to catch her breath as her second release crashed over her, his fingers unrelenting in pushing her straight through the release. He cried out a strangled utterance of her name as his own release hit. Just as he had coaxed her through her release_s_, she rode him until she'd milked every last drop of pleasure from him.

She wasn't one for _basking_, she didn't do the whole post-coital cuddling, and staying close to the other person. But he was apparently the exception to all of her rules. Because she was too damn sated to care about the way she slumped against him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, comfortable enough against him to doze off for a few blissful moments.

"You're neck's going to cramp, laying that way."

"I'm comfortable." Emma lamented. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "Were you serious about the whole _weekend_ thing?" She asked him. Now, in her opinion, was the best time to ask him – she could claim they were just sex-addled, that his answer or her agreement meant nothing.

"_If_ you want me to stay around, I'm not going to say no." Killian drawled out, his voice just that much thicker now. "We can spend the weekend, just enjoying all of this like… well, like those friends of yours that you mentioned."

Emma pulled back a little more, searching his gaze curiously. "Are you proposing that we spend this weekend like a _fake_ couple?"

Killian flashed her that charming grin that did _things_ to her. "We're scratching the itch."

It was _a lot_ to agree to and a lot to accept that she actually _wanted _it. Her last "real" relationship had been Neal and considering how terrible that had gone, she had never wanted to enter into a relationship ever again. But right now, this offer for something real, yet fake, was the most appealing thing she'd been offered in a _very_ long time.

"It sounds like a plan to me." Emma said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "A no strings attached, three day relationship, with none of the messy emotional parts of it." She saw the way his own smile faltered at her words and her heart lurched.

"Exactly." Killian affirmed, leaning in to kiss her. "Which way is your bedroom?" He questioned, glancing around the apartment then.

"Down that hallway." Emma told him, nodding towards the hallway she'd gone down to go to the bathroom. She unwound their tangled limbs, slipping off his lap and pushing her unneeded dress off the rest of the way.

"I'm going to clean up and meet you in there." Killian drawled out, pushing his fingers through his hair before he rose to his feet, gesturing south with a pointed look.

"Take care of whatever you have to _big boy_." Emma said pointedly, a devious little smirk twisting at the corners of her lips before she headed off towards the bedroom, letting her hips sway seductively as she left.

She'd never done this sort of thing before and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous about the whole situation. Sure, he'd be gone by Monday and her life would go back to normal, her job would remain the same, her rules, her walls – but, she had the distinct feeling that _everything_ would change after him. He had managed to crack through some pretty hefty walls in an evening.

Emma sprawled out on her bed, like she always did, taking up the entire width of the full sized bed. He would probably realize soon enough that she didn't _share_ well, she never had and she probably never would. It was part of who she was and the upbringing she'd had. Foster kids never had anything of their own and when they _did_ get something, they held onto it and refused to share it with anyone else. Her bed was one of those things, even now.

She rolled over onto her side when the door to her bedroom opened and Killian entered. He'd put his boxers back on, but aside from that, he was still _very _bare and she wasn't going to complain about the view.

"You didn't fall asleep, did you?" He questioned quietly as he approached the bed.

Emma scooted over to the edge of the bed, patting the empty space. "Nope, I was just laying here thinking." She told him, propping herself up against the headboard, her arms crossed across her bare chest. "Not sure if I'll sleep much tonight." Emma confessed, swallowing thickly.

Killian's brows creased as he slipped beneath the sheets, turning to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "I don't have to stay, love. If you want me to go, I'll go."

Emma laughed a little breathlessly, "It's too late now, you know too much." She flashed him a hesitant smile, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Oh, are you going to chain me up here and keep me here forever or something?" Killian laughed, shaking his head as he shifted closer to her.

Emma shrugged her shoulders, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leaned close to him, her lips hovering a few inches from his lips. "Maybe I'm into it."

"You do have cuffs don't you?" Killian quipped out, tracing his fingers lightly over her cheek, leaning in even closer, his nose bumping into hers. "I might go to sleep here and wake up cuffed to the bed or something."

Emma smirked, "You're giving me _fantastic_ ideas. Maybe I should do just that and ride you till I break you this weekend." She was spurring him on, wanting him to take the next action. As much as she _loved_ being the sexually aggressive one, she wanted to see what he was capable of.

Killian brushed his lips over hers, his hot breath dancing over her lips as he tilted his head and kissed her hard enough to steal her breath. Desire shot through her like a white hot lance. He was a _hell_ of a kisser and that just _wasn't _fair.

Typically, at this point, she was already thoroughly satisfied, but tonight – with him – she wanted _more_. She ached to have him again, to _feel_ the way that he had made her feel. Emma arched closer to him, her leg hitching over his hip, wanting him closer.

He rolled them over, pressing her into the mattress beneath him, his weight pinning her down against the bed. Killian broke from the kiss, his lips dragging along her jawline, trailing down her throat. His tongue lavished her pulse point, making her mewl and groan and make sounds she didn't make for others.

She expected to feel him reach for the condoms that were on the nightstand, but instead he continued kissing every patch of skin he could find. The scratch of his stubbly chin against her stomach made that low coil of desire even more present. Her hips rocked up off the bed of their own volition, her fingers tangling through his thick hair, tugging at the strands as they slipped through her fingers.

Emma's eyes screwed shut, her lips parting with a loud cry of surprise and pleasure all wound together as his lips found their way between her thighs. His tongue swept between her folds, teasing her clit, teasing and taunting and pulling sounds from her that she didn't even know she was capable of.

"_Oh my God_." She gripped the bed sheets at her side, her other hand tugging at his hair as he _wrecked_ her completely with a mouth that should have been illegal in all fifty states and surrounding territories.

This was _new_ for her. She hadn't been with a single lover that was willing and ready to go down on her. She'd given her fair share of head, during a period in her life when she wanted to forget _everything_ and just get lost in being wild after prison. But the action had never been given in return.

"_Killian_." Emma panted out, feeling that clenching in her stomach, her muscles trembling, her back bowing up off the bed. His fingers joined his mouth. He twisted two fingers in and out of her, curling them just right, as his tongue assaulted her clit – pushing her right over the edge.

"God you're gorgeous." Killian breathed out, grinning up at her as she tilted her head to look down at him. He ran his hands along her inner thighs, making a show of licking his lips.

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ." Emma muttered, letting her head fall back against the pillows, trying to desperately to catch her breath. "You're _not_ real."

"Oh, I'm very real." Killian clicked his tongue against his teeth as he moved back up to lay beside her, casually curling his arm around her middle, pulling her in close to him. "I'm guessing that you're not used to that sort of treatment."

"You'd be guessing right." Emma retorted, covering her face with her arm. "There's a first time for everything."

"And you _never_ forget our first." She could hear the smirk in his voice, her stomach muscles trembling beneath the hypnotic touch of his fingers, as he drew circles on her skin. Emma turned to face him, finding him grinning at her with that cocky, smug, look that she'd found that she quite liked.

"Here I was thinking that I'd wear you down this weekend and it turns out you're the one trying to kill me." Emma gave him a pointed look. "You always treat your bed partners that well?"

"Well, I am very deadest in making certain my lady is pleased, but… you're getting very special treatment." Killian grinned at her, a smile that was less cocky now and more sincere. The sort of lopsided _happy_ smile that made her stomach flip-flop and her heart pound faster in her chest.

"And why do I get such special treatment?" Emma questioned him, her brows furrowing together as she met those gorgeous blue eyes of his. "I'm just _me_. I don't warrant special treatment." She admitted, which was a very honest admittance. She'd never had anyone go above and beyond of her in any other aspect of her life, so why should she expect it to happen in the bedroom?

Killian rolled his eyes, "If I didn't think there was something special about you, I wouldn't be going to such lengths to make sure you have a hell of a weekend." He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, letting silence fall between them for a few long moments, before he spoke again. "I can't really explain _why_ I want to do this for, why I feel so bloody compelled to give both of us a long overdue weekend of fun, but… as soon as I saw you in the bar I knew… _something_."

Emma swallowed thickly, feeling a little bit like she was drowning beneath the weight of his words. "I can't exactly say that I didn't feel _something _too. I mean I don't bring people back to my place, I don't… do _this_." She gestured between them, "I guess I can give in to something for a weekend, you know. This isn't all that different from a one night stand. It's a weekend of fun and then we both get to go our separate ways." She felt like she had to keep driving that point home. That, despite whatever that _something_ might be for the two of them, this was just sex, it was just unwinding – scratching an itch that was long overdue.

"After this weekend our paths won't ever cross again." Killian's lips pressed into a thin line, his voice no longer carrying that quality that she could read.

"_Right_."

They laid in silence, their fingers finding little spots of skin to idly stroke, tender little touches that lulled them into the quietness. It was different, to unwind in someone's arms. To feel the tug of exhaustion as you sank to sleep. The last person she'd slept with like this had been Neal, when she was too young and too naïve to even understand what she was getting herself into. She had slept in arms that weren't strong enough to hold her, rested her cheek on the chest of a man who's heart didn't beat for her, the way hers had beat for him.

Those memories, the pain and the heartache of deceit, were what kept her from falling for anyone else. She'd had men in her life, in no short supply, but they were always unattainable or train wrecks for a purpose. She could blame their wife, their addictions, their flaws, and their downfalls as why she couldn't be with them. One night stands were as far as she ever went, with good reason. She had her rules, the ones she'd so strictly adhered to. No matter how wonderful a guy seemed, so could always find a flaw, an excuse.

But Killian was different. The good kind of different. He was charming and sweet and too gorgeous to be real. He didn't wear his flaws on his sleeve, not supplying her with an excuse to be wary of him. Except he would be gone in a few days, which wasn't a flaw necessarily – it was a blessing. She could use that as a reason to not get too close. He would be her dirty little secret.

Her friends would never know, because if they did she was fairly certain both Mary Margaret and Ruby would tell her she was an idiot for letting him slip away from her. But he had a job and maybe he did have a life that he wasn't telling her about, but she'd seen it in his eyes, his wayward, homeless, familyless story wasn't a lie to her.

She was so comfortable in his arms, she felt safe and protected, and cared about for the time being. It was nice to feel that way, to feel warm instead of cold, open instead of guarded. This weekend wasn't _real_. They were taking a holiday away from reality, to just enjoy something _good_ without anything coming from it.

If it wasn't real, then she couldn't be wrong about him. She wouldn't have the weight of _caring_ about him once Monday was through. They would go their separate ways and life would start again. Her friends would come home from their trips out of the city, they would fill up her life with stories about their cook-outs and how so-and-so's great uncle was doing with his treatment or how a cousin was managing after graduation. She'd cling to those family stories and pretend that she cared, about as much as they probably really cared too. Her job would pick-up again and she'd catch a few more assholes, before a round of drinks with her friends on Friday night. Maybe they'd see a movie or some poorly directed cheap play at the black box theatre.

Life would continue.

They just needed each other for a few meaningless nights that would probably end up meaning more than either of them expected.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: **This chapter took only two days to write and is actually the chapter that first came to mind when I started formulating this fic. There's a lot of fluff and absolutely not sex, though there is mentions of the night before here and there. I absolutely love this chapter and the twist that occurred that came about in a slightly different way than I first saw it happening. I love working on this fic. Reviews make me happy!

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She wasn't entirely certain what pulled her out of her dreams, whether it be the sunlight streaming through the partially drawn curtains or the distinct lack of warmth coming from behind her. He'd been curled around her most of the night and she hadn't had a word of complaint about how nice it felt to be held the way he'd held her. But now as she stretched out and rolled over, she found the bed beside her empty and cold.

"I wasn't even _that_ drunk." Emma mumbled to herself as she rubbed at her eyes. She was achy all over, in all the right places – letting her know that no part of last night had been some hazy half-drunk dream. Because two beers were barely a buzz for her anymore. She'd been tipsy, right up until the sobering orgasm he'd given her on the sofa.

Emma rolled over and eyed her alarm clock – it was seven, well past when she typically got up. He was good, she had to give him that, because she hadn't even heard him get up. She could only hope that all of her valuables were still where she'd left them, otherwise she was going to be fucking pissed if she'd fallen for the same old shit again. He hadn't seemed like that sort of guy, but then again they _never _did.

Her toes curled as she stretched out on the bed again, reaching her arms out above her head, working the kinks out of the back of her neck. He hadn't been kidding, the way she'd laid on him on the sofa had _not _been the right way to lay. She moved across her bedroom to grab the housecoat that was hanging on the back of her closet door, before she slipped it on and moved to leave her bedroom.

As she pulled the door open she realized he hadn't left. The delicious scent of bacon hit her nose, making her mouth salivate and her stomach growl. Was he _seriously_ making breakfast for her? She was definitely still asleep, because that was not normal, that was the sort of crap you read about in a Nicholas Sparks book, in between old people rekindling old flames and teenagers dying of cancer.

She checked her reflection in the mirror as she passed the bathroom, untangling a few noticeable knots in her hair, before she padded barefoot into the kitchen. "You _really_ didn't have to do this for me Killian. You're a guest here."

He looked up from the stove with a warm smile that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. "But I _wanted_ to. And I was going to bring it in there to you before you woke up."

"I guess I beat you to the punch." Emma tucked her hair behind her ears, moving to lean against the kitchen counter. "Did you sleep well?" She didn't know how morning conversations like this went. She remembered how they went when she was an awkward teenager, trying to sound like an adult to please a guy that she should have stayed away from.

"Best sleep of my life." Killian commented as he flipped a pancake over before depositing it on the plate beside the stove. "I hope you're hungry."

"I'm _starving_." She declared, licking her lips as she watched him flip another pancake. "I hadn't realized how hungry I was until this morning. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

"Good because I made _way_ too many pancakes." He flashed her a quick grin, before he moved across the kitchen to pour the coffee he'd brewed.

"I don't drink coffee." Emma told him, stopping him before he poured into the second mug.

"Then why do you _have_ coffee?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "I have friends, they come over, and they drink the coffee." She laughed as she strolled into the kitchen, grabbing the mug and filling it with milk, before popping it into the microwave. "I drink cocoa," She informed him, glancing back over her shoulder at him. "With cinnamon on top."

Killian gave her a sidelong look, "Do you like cinnamon on your pancakes too?"

"Just lots of butter and syrup." Emma replied, pulling the mug out of the microwave, dumping the right amount of cocoa mix in into the milk. "_What_? Do you put cinnamon on your pancakes?"

"No. I'm not _weird_." He teased, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he met her eyes as she approached him. "What's that look for?"

Emma pursed her lips as her eyes raked over him, her head canted to one side. "Are you _sure_ you aren't gay or something? Because this –" She gestured towards the plate of pancakes and him. "_only _happens in chick-flicks."

"What? Do straight men not cook or something? Did you forget the part where I live alone, by myself, and have to… you_ know _fend for myself." Killian retorted, giving her a look that had no small amount of sass in it.

"I fend for myself too, but I fend for myself in the form of take out and pizza delivery." Emma met his eyes, her brows shooting upwards, matching his sass with her own. "I'm just impressed. Who knew there were men in this world who give multiple orgasms _and_ make breakfast?" And she'd managed to snag him for an entire weekend.

Killian passed a plate in her direction. "If that's the case, I'm impressed you had all of these ingredients in your cabinets."

"I have eggs because I _do_ know how to make omelets and I have all the other stuff, because who _doesn't_ have flour and oil in their kitchen?" Emma retorted, taking the plate from him with a haughty look. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, love." Killian smiled at her, that smile that had had her heart fluttering in her chest last night, still having the same effect on her today. "I'll be transparent and tell you that Google helped with that, I don't just know recipes off the top of my head."

"What a relief." Emma said dryly, her lips curving upwards in a quick smirk, before she dug into her stack of pancakes, practically groaning at the first bite. "What the hell did you put in these? They taste like _heaven_."

"A secret ingredient." Killian smirked, one brow cocking upwards as he wrapped his lips around his fork and ate a decent cut of pancakes.

"Suspicious." Emma countered. "Should I be worried?"

"Its vanilla, it makes it a little sweeter. I thought you could use it."

She feigned injury, "That was low buddy. I could have made you sleep on the sofa last night."

Killian laughed, covering his mouth. "Would there have still been conjugal visits if you'd banished me to the sofa?"

Emma shrugged, "Maybe."

Their banter died down for a few moments as they ate their breakfast. Eyes met and lips curled and unspoken words passed between in the silence. She had expected the _awestruck_ sensation to have passed over the night, but instead she found herself a little more infatuated with the blue-eyed sailor with the unfair accent.

That was why she didn't let guys spend the night, because _clearly_ sleeping with someone meant getting tangled up in emotions that shouldn't have been there. But there they were, making her heart beat fast and her cheeks go pink.

"So, I was thinking." Emma said as she pushed the last piece of her pancake around her plate, soaking up the leftover syrup, using the action to keep herself from looking at him. "There's this carnival down by the pier, it just popped up for the weekend. We could head down there today, so we're not just cooped up in here all weekend like stowaways."

"That sounds like a date Emma Swan."

Emma balked, "It's _not _a date. We'd just be hanging out."

"Hanging out like… _friends_? Because, while I'm flattered by that, we had sex last night and I don't think we can really just… pretend that away."

"I wasn't asking you to pretend away what happened last night." Emma insisted, sitting the plate down on the counter. "I was just asking if you wanted to go _out_. We're supposed to be spending this weekend like… you know real people who go out."

"I mean carnivals are typically _couple_ events. If you're a teenager."

Emma's brows furrowed, "Fine, we don't have to go to the damn carnival, it was just an option. We'll just sit here and stare at the t.v. that doesn't work half the time."

Killian threw his hands up in surrender, "_Bloody hell. _I was joking, alright? Carnivals are fun at any age."

"It's fine, Killian." Emma's voice came out strained as she cast her eyes away from him. "I figured this weekend was supposed to be like free therapy and… I don't have the best memories associated to a carnival and I thought that maybe we could make new memories down there and maybe it would be good for me. But if you don't want to, it's_ fine_."

"It's clearly _not_ fine." Killian insisted, crossing his arms across his chest. "So, is this bad memory maker guy the one that caused _all_ of this?"

Emma didn't answer that question, she evaded it, just like any other question about why she was the way she was. There were better ways to explain it without flat out saying that Neal had damaged almost to the point of no repair. "I met him stealing a stolen car, he asked me out for drinks… I was expecting a bar, but it ended up being coffee at a carnival after hours"

"So _this_ is why you don't drink coffee?" Killian teased, trying to make light of the situation.

"It's why I don't do anything without expecting the second shoe to fall." Emma confessed, curling her fingers around her mug, bringing it up to her lips. "When I woke up this morning and you weren't still in bed, I figured you left and probably took some of my valuables with you."

"Sounds like you've slept with some class act men in your life."

Emma shook her head, "It's easier that way. Because then I can justify why I can't be with them. That's why you work, because I know you're going to be gone in a few days. I can't let myself be wrong about someone and run the risk of getting hurt again."

"Then we'll go to the carnival and we'll make damn certain that you have better memories when we leave that place." Killian swore to her. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Opening up." He smiled at her. "It's nice to find out a little bit more about you."

Emma laughed, "It's only fair, you opened up to me last night." She smiled appreciatively at him. "I should be thanking you, really. Breakfast was delicious and completely unexpected."

Killian met her smile with one of his own. "That's because you thought I was some crook who was using sex to steal from you." He teased, stepping a little closer to her. "The only thing I ask in return, is the use of your iron – because I only have that horribly wrinkled thing from last night."

Emma chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes alight with something, she was fairly certain hadn't been there in years. "I'll go get that for you. Then I'm going to go use the shower." While part of her wanted to invite him to share it with her, she wanted to see how today would go for the two of them, without bringing sex into the equation.

"Don't have too much fun in there." He quipped, offering her a playful wink and a grin, before nodding in the direction of their dirty dishes. "I'll work on them while you get ready, then I'll hop in the shower myself when you're done."

She nodded, before ducking her head, "Let me grab that iron for you." She commented as she headed off back to where she kept it the small closet in the hallway. Emma's eyes flickered towards him, watching him as he moved around the kitchen – as though he belonged there.

_Those_ were the sort of thoughts she shouldn't have been thinking of, but there she was imagining other breakfasts with him in one of those _Kiss the Chef _aprons, she'd idly looked at in stores with Mary Margaret, teasing _her_ about David, while secretly longing for that sort of thing herself.

Emma set up the ironing board for him, plugging the iron in. She glanced towards the kitchen, smiling to herself once more as she watched him putting the dishes away in the dishwasher. He was a really phenomenal guy and, despite what he'd said, she was finding it hard to believe that he didn't have _anyone_ waiting for him in some other port.

A guy like that? Someone so charming, handsome, good natured, and a sailor to boot had to have _someone_, somewhere. But that was neither here nor there. This weekend was about the two of them, enjoying a carefree weekend. To let themselves go.

But she had this_ hope_, hope that she didn't want to admit to, a hope for something _more_ – even though he would be gone on Monday. And maybe that was why she was hoping for more, because she knew it was impossible, she knew she could never have that. Masochism at its finest.

The shower did her good. It eased the ache in her sore muscles and woke her up _better_ than coffee would have. She had a serious of interesting fingertip prints on her hips and upper thighs, and she found the little red marks from where his scruffy cheeks had left their imprint between her legs. She was fairly certain she'd have _more_ marks before this weekend was over.

Emma had never been one to dress up when she went out, unless the goal of the evening was to attract whatever lowlife scumbag she had to catch for work. A pair of jeans and a tee shirt was vastly different from the short red dress she'd had on last night. But she had a good feeling that he wouldn't care what she had on or didn't have on.

She emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her cleaned clothes with her wet hair wrapped in a towel. _All _of this was incredibly domestic and intimate. He was standing there in her living room, ironing his clothes, enduring the misery that was her botched cable t.v.

"That thing has _never_ worked right, I don't know why I pay for it." Emma commented.

"It's not so bad." Killian turned to look back at her, a lopsided grin on his face. "I hope you left some warm water in there for me."

She laughed, "I wasn't gone _that_ long."

"It's a good thing I'm quick."

"That statement is not always a positive one in all situations." Emma barely controlled her laughter as she let her hair down, drawing the towel around her shoulders to keep her hair from getting her shirt too wet. She flopped down on the sofa, stretching her legs out in front of her, resting her bare heels on the coffee table.

Killian scoffed, as he tugged at the power cord of the iron, walking across the apartment to sit the hot iron on the stove to cool off. "I think you and I both know that I can hold my own when it comes to _that_."

Emma smirked to herself, "Well, we definitely know you're a giver, but I can't make an educated opinion on your virility." She glanced over the back of the sofa, catching his gaze for a quick second, before she looked back to the sketchy television.

"You wound me so." Killian drawled out, moving to lean over the back of the sofa, his lips close to her ear. Close enough that his breath danced over her skin, making her shudder. "And you expect me to carry around anything you win at the carnival, love?"

Emma turned her head, narrowing her eyes in a vain attempt to look tough, when truth be told he had heart pounding in her chest again. "Who asked you to carry my things around, _love_?" She retorted, doing a terrible impression of his accent.

"I don't sound like that."

"Oh, I think you do." She smirked, leaning in just enough to brush her lips over his, before she turned her head away from him. "Go shower. If we're going to carnival, we're going to have to leave soon."

"I'm going, I'm going." Killian insisted, raising his hands up in mock-surrender. "And there _better_ be warm water or else."

"Or else _what_?" Emma questioned, with no small amount of sass in her tone. She glanced back over the sofa, catching his eyes for a brief second before he vanished down the hallway without a reply, leaving the possibilities of _what_ wide open. He was so easy to talk to, to tease, as though they'd known each other a hell of a lot longer than an evening and part of a morning.

He made her laugh and more importantly – he made her smile, which if you asked any of her friends, took a lot of doing to make happen.

Emma leaned over the arm of the sofa, grabbing her discarded purse from the night, digging around in it for her phone. She had two messages, which wasn't the least bit surprising, considering Mary Margaret frequently left her little encouraging texts.

[**Mary Margaret]** Progress report! We made it up to my dad's old place, still as gorgeous as ever! With just as spotty cell service as before. The "evil queen" is in a freakishly good mood. I guess enough time has passed that she's calmed down. Not long after I left she adopted some baby. He's a great kid. He absolutely adores David. I hope you're having a fun, lazy weekend.

**[Unknown Number] **Is this Emma Swan?

She eyed the second text message, her brows furrowing together as she studied the unknown number. She didn't recognize the area code. As far as she knew, no one outside of her friend group knew her number.

"Depends on who this is." Emma muttered as she sent the message, dropping her phone back into her purse. She had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need some stranger texting her. With her amazing luck, it was probably someone she'd caught, seeking revenge or something like that. Which seemed fitting, really.

Emma headed back into her bedroom, checking her reflection in the mirror on the back of her door. She was fairly certain, were Mary Margaret there she would be chastising her for not putting more effort into her looks, considering the guy she had in her bathroom, but he hadn't run screaming when she'd come out in day old makeup and sex-mussed hair.

"Hey beautiful."

Emma spotted Killian's reflection in the mirror, standing there in the doorway. "Hey yourself." She managed to get out without sounding as flustered as she felt. "Ready to go?"

"Sure am, love." Killian pushed his fingers through his wet hair as he leaned against the doorframe. "You saved just enough warm water for me."

She laughed, "_Aw_. You mean I won't get to find out what your _or else_ meant?" Emma teased as she slipped through the doorway, brushing a little closer to him than necessary. Her eyes flickered over his face, dropping to his _incredibly_ kissable lips, before she headed back out into the living room. "You make yesterday's clothes look good."

"Ironing does wonders." Killian chuckled, smoothing his hands over the front of his white button up. "Luckily my pants didn't get too wrinkled up."

"_Yet_." Emma retorted sassily, grabbing her purse and shrugging it onto her shoulder. She gave him a once over, pursing her lips with a hint of a smirk turning the corners upwards. "I think everyone's going to see right through our ruse."

"How so?" Killian countered as he approached her, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

Emma shrugged her shoulders, her lashes fluttering, her heart beating faster – far too easily effected by that look in his eyes. "Well, I mean there's _you _and then there's… _me_."

He rolled his eyes, "I can't tell if you're just self-deprecating in nature of if you're fishing for compliments." Killian drawled out, coming to stand just a breath away from her. "Because you're beautiful and I sure as hell hope that you've been told that enough in your life."

Emma pressed her lips together, "Maybe I just like the way it sounds coming out in _your _accent." She was blushing and there was no way to hide that fact from him.

Killian cupped her cheek, running his thumb along the curve of her cheekbone. "You're _beautiful_." Despite the situation and the fact that compliments worked in his best interests, Emma knew that his words were completely genuine. She was so used to false compliments, dishonest offers of encouragement, which came with her job.

"Thank you Killian." Emma whispered breathlessly, pushing her fingers through his hair like she'd wanted to since he'd come out of the bathroom. He had _really_ good hair. She tipped her head just enough, brushing her lips against his. She was always looking for faults in people, excuses and reasons to distance herself from them. But she couldn't find a damn reason to avoid this one.

Desire was still there, but this kiss was far more tender than the ones that they'd shared the night before. It was full of all of those complicated emotions that she usually ran from. Despite what her head kept telling her, she chose to trust her gut and run heart first into whatever this was. It was worth the pain she might feel at the end, to give into someone who was willing to give her one hundred and ten percent of them.

The drive over to the carnival was fairly uneventful. She had never laughed so hard in her life until a casual _oh well_ in response to getting stuck at a red light for seven minutes, turned into Killian reenacting a scene from The Godfather in the voice of Eeyore. They talked about their future goals, how he wanted to get promoted to Captain – to fulfil what his brother hadn't been able to finish out and how he wanted to go back to school and work on becoming a criminal profiler for the police department.

"Just because it might not work out in the end, doesn't mean you shouldn't pursue it." Killian told her as they pulled into the parking lot for the carnival. "The journey's worth it. You've just got to trust what your gut says, love."

Emma bit her lip to hide her smile as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "That's what I keep telling myself." She replied, giving him a sidelong look as she climbed out of the bug. "Maybe it'll work out and maybe it won't, but at least it could be fun on the way." She glanced over the top of her bug, meeting his eyes for a brief second, before she adverted her gaze. She knew full well that both of them weren't talking about her career pursuits.

"Life's all about the experience." Killian commented as he came around the car and took her hand, lacing their fingers. "Like going to a carnival."

"And breaking self-made rules." She retorted, smiling a little.

Killian squeezed her hand, "You just needed a good reason to cut loose."

"Oh, are _you_ that good reason?"

"Obviously." He laughed, nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. "It takes a special sort of man to get past those walls of yours."

Emma scoffed, "And you got past them in record time. You just hammered right away at those defenses." She widened her eyes, trying to look serious and failing. "Do me a favor and don't make it too hard for me to patch them back up when you're done."

"Dully noted." Killian drawled out, cracking a small warm smile as he met her eyes. "Do you have those walls because of _carnival guy_?"

She swallowed thickly, dropping her gaze to the pavement as she walked. "Yeah." She admitted quietly, tightening her hold on his hand.

"You're afraid to talk, to reveal yourself, aren't you?" Killian insisted, pulling her to a stop just as they entered the gates of the carnival. "Whatever your past holds, love, I assure you that it's not going to frighten me away."

Emma shook her head, "You'll think less of me."

"I sincerely doubt that, lass. Have I judged you at all?"

"No, but –" She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. "My own friends don't know, because I don't want them to _know_ about what happened, because they'd think less of me, and maybe they wouldn't say it to my face, but I would just assume they were."

Emma lifted her gaze to meet his, her brows furrowing in a futile attempt to keep the broken way she felt from showing on her face.

"Your apartment's pretty empty, you're used to travelling around in that bug of yours, aren't you?" Killian questioned, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over the back of her hand.

"I move around a lot. I don't go far. Once I moved to New York for half a year before I was back in Boston. I'm used to travelling around, but I always stick to places on the coast." Emma explained to him. "I always say it's because the one time I wasn't by the water, I was sitting in a prison in Arizona, completely landlocked."

"You went to prison?" It was inquisitive, not judgmental, and the fact that he seemed to be a master at that tone made her lashes flutter and her heart race a little faster. She had expected him to pull his hand away from hers or look shocked. The open book thing was clearly not some passing comment he'd made.

"For someone else's crimes. Which isn't to say I wasn't guiltless, but I'm not the jackass who stole watches." She snapped out, anger bubbling up within her. "I was _seventeen_. He was like twenty-three, maybe older… I thought he loved me." She wasn't telling him the rest of the story. No one needed to know about the baby she'd given up. That kid was better of wherever he was, because it took her a very long time to have a stable life.

"That's not that bad, Emma. That doesn't make me look at you any differently, it just makes me want to find ca_rnival guy _and punch him in the face for you." He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, swiping it back behind her shoulders. "Now your dreams of being a profiler makes sense to me."

Emma laughed, a little louder than she'd intended to. "I figure I spent enough time breaking the law that I know what to expect from those sort of people." She pursed her lips, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

"I don't know how I should feel about this secret of yours, love… You thought that _I_ was a thief that had stolen all of your belongings while you'd been asleep."

"Hey, it was possible! I mean, you're hot, you were fantastic in bed, I'm just saying… Something had to have been wrong." She smirked, meeting his impossibly blue eyes. "I probably had some sort of accident on the way to the bar last night and I'm _actually_ dead or something."

Killian gave her an incredulous look, "I think I'm supposed to take that as a compliment. I'm so good, I'm probably an afterlife hallucination."

"I mean, my life hasn't had many Hallmark movie moments in it and I've racked up like… at _least_ ten since I met you." She grinned up at him, "My life's more like something you'd see on TruCrime."

"Well, if _this_ is a Hallmark movie, then we should probably go ride the Ferris wheel." Killian flashed her that cocky grin she'd grown rather fond of. He tugged at her hand and she willingly followed him through the carnival grounds, winding their way through parents with children and couples with each other, making their way back to the Ferris wheel that was set up to look out towards the water.

"So, _Killian Jones_," Emma started as she turned to face them while they waited in line. "What secrets are still left untold about you?" She questioned, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt as she leaned against him. "Have you got a girl in every port that you take on Ferris wheels?"

"Hardly," Killian rested his hand at her waist, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her ribs there. "You and I are quite similar in that regard. I already told you, one night stands have always been the way I go about all of this."

She cocked one brow upwards, "So you don't make breakfast for every girl you sleep with?"

Killian made a face, "Oh, I'm sure there's been women who expected that out of me, but… I've kinda been an arse in the past. It's surprising how many women really bristle at being told to get out of my room after sex."

Emma laughed, "You really do sound like me. That's kinda creepy. At least you can just _leave_ town and not have to deal with, you know, running into them on public transport or having them in front of you at Starbucks."

"If you're looking for faults in me, love, you can just ask me straight up to list them for you." Killian said matter-of-factly.

"There's a _list_?" Her nose scrunched up, her lips betraying her amusement. "Should I be worried?"

Killian leaned in a pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, "It's a short list. I drink too much, I shout when I'm angry, and I hog the sheets."

Emma rolled her eyes, "You can hog the sheets as much as you want to, because there's no way someone could get cold with you laying on top of them." She retorted, her fingers trailing over his skin along the V-neck of his shirt.

"_Damn, _I was hoping you wouldn't notice that." He grinned at her, his eyes full of something akin to adoration, that was infectious, making her grin just as wide as he did.

"Surprisingly I liked it." Emma admitted, pulling away from him as it was time to get on the Ferris wheel.

"You're not afraid of heights are you?" Killian questioned as helped her into their car.

"I'm only afraid of falling." Emma told him, meeting his eyes as she sat down beside him, fiddling with buckling her seatbelt. She kept saying little comments that held double meanings and she felt certain that he got what she was meant.

"That's understandable." Killian curled his arm around her, his fingers brushing over the curve of her shoulder as the car began to slowly rise off the ground. "The water looks gorgeous today."

"It's the perfect color of blue." Emma whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. The water was the color of his eyes, bright and blue and hopeful. She hadn't realized that his eyes were that color of blue, until she'd mentioned how she always tried to stay close to the water, if it were at all possible. He was a sailor, he spent his life at sea, and she was only the tiniest bit jealous of that fact. He would never be landlocked.

They sat in silence, enjoying the slow moving ride and the sights that stretched as far as the eye could see. And as they rose higher, they became far more interested in the sight sitting beside them. Emma's fingers wound through his hair, cradling the back of his head as she kissed him. She melted against him, as well as she could with the hindrance of their safety belts. She could drown in his lips and the way they left her feeling heady and breathless.

Killian's tongue brushed across her bottom lip and her lips parted, permitting him the entrance he'd wordlessly requested. She groaned softly against his mouth, breaking from the kiss long enough to catch her breath, before she was kissing him again. She was fairly confident when she thought that she could spend all day kissing him like this.

After tomorrow he'd be gone. All she would have was the memory of how he'd made her feel.

The thirty minute ride ended far too quickly for her liking. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest, she could heart it thumping in her ears. Her legs felt like Jell-O as they got off the ride and she held to his hand tighter than before.

"You thirsty?" Killian questioned, nodding his head in the direction of a slushy stall. "I'll buy."

Emma grinned at him her brows quirking upwards, "You ought to buy, you're part of the reason I'm so thirsty." She gave him a pointed look.

"Hey, you weren't complaining." Killian retorted, sweeping his tongue out along his bottom lip, which seemed to design to catch her attention. "I mean, you started it after all."

Emma snorted, barely able to contain the laughter that bubbled up in the back of her throat. "You're ridiculous, I hope you realize that."

Killian grinned at her. "I'm vaguely aware of that fact."

"I'm glad we're in agreement." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, "Wouldn't want you thinking that you were anything but ridiculous." Emma laughed at the face he pulled, loving the way it felt to just be at ease with someone, to laugh and have a good time. She felt young again, bright-eyed and hopeful. He'd been right – she had _needed_ this break.

"Do you like the blue flavor?" Killian questioned as they approached the stall.

"I _love _the blue." Emma replied, releasing her hold on his hand so he could get his wallet out. "I would have to worry about you if you didn't like the blue."

Killian flashed her a cheeky grin, "I could say the same about you."

Emma laughed as she rustled around in her purse for her cellphone. She had another text message from her mysterious unknown number. She eyed Killian as he stepped ahead of her to buy their drink, wondering if he had anything to do with the texts she was getting. But it was impossible, she was just looking for another excuse to be wary. She sighed, swiping the text message open to read it.

**[Unknown Number]** A friend of yours gave me your number. Technically I stole her phone and found the number after she mentioned your name. Do you have a son?

**[Text] **I don't know what you're talking about or who you are. Leave me alone.

She could practically feel the color drain from her face, her pulse thumping loudly in her ears as she stared at the text message. _No one_ knew about her baby – her son. She hadn't even held him. She didn't know what he looked like. No one knew.

The only person she could think of having given her number to someone was Mary Margaret, who had never been one to understand the concept of privacy. But she didn't know about the baby, for that reason alone. She couldn't risk someone finding out.

**[Text] **I don't know how you know about that. His adoption was closed. Please don't contact me again.

"You okay, love?"

Emma's eyes snapped up from her phone, her brows furrowing. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

She bristled, "Seriously, I'm fine Killian." Emma insisted, her gaze dropping to her phone once more as another text message came through. She expected it to be her mystery texter, but instead it was Mary Margaret.

**[Mary Margaret] **I didn't hear back from you this morning, so I guess you're still asleep. Here are some obligatory pictures of all of us! David says hello! So does Henry – that's Regina's kid. He's the dark haired one in the pictures.

The images came through as she read the message and she tapped on the first one to swipe through the rest.

"Family?"

Emma shook her head, "No, it's a friend of mine's family." Her heart was pounding in her chest as she looked down at the last picture in the set. A dark messy haired boy, with a lopsided grin, and dark brown eyes. She clicked off the pictures, scrolling back up to where Mary Margaret had explained the situation to her. He had been adopted. She and Mary Margaret were roughly the same age, if Regina had adopted the kid when Mary Margaret had left – that would have been around the same time that she'd…

"Emma, seriously what's wrong?" Killian questioned, his voice laced with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?"

"It's fine. It's _fine_." She insisted as she tucked her phone into her purse again, her fingers shaking noticeably. "I can't do this." Emma whispered, her eyes widening as they met his. "_Killian_."

His brows knit together and he reached out and caught her trembling hand. "Emma, you're freaking me out here, love. What did your friend send you?"

Emma swallowed back the lump in her throat, "The boy… in that last picture." Killian nodded slowly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of her hand. "Can we sit down?"

Killian squeezed her hand, nodding his head, before leading her over to the closest bench. "It's alright, love." He assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to his side.

"It's really not." Emma whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. Maybe _this_ was the reason he was here with her this weekend. Otherwise she'd be a complete and utter nervous wreck right now. "My past just cropped back up and…" Her words ran dry.

"Is it _carnival guy_?" Killian questioned, keeping his voice low and a gentle.

"No, it's not him… but it's related to him." She chewed on her bottom lip, debating over whether or not she told tell him or not. "I'm going to end up telling you all my deepest darkest secrets, you know." She gave a strained laugh. "You'll know too much, I'll have to kill you." Emma said pitifully.

Killian pressed a kiss to the side of her head, leaving his lips there as he spoke, "I'll take it all to my grave, I promise you."

"I have a son." Emma all but blurted out. She didn't give him a chance to comment on it either. "I was a teenager, without a home, without a family – I was scared and alone and I still had a few months left of prison, so I gave him up for adoption. I thought it was a closed file, especially since I was a minor… That kid in the picture, I think he's my son."

"Why do you think that?" Killian questioned when she finally gave him a second to speak.

Emma shifted, pulling her phone out of her purse, tapping the unlock code and pulling up the text messages from the mysterious number. "I started getting these today. It makes sense though. Mary Margaret said he was adopted around the same time I would have had my son… Plus, he looks _so_ much like his father."

Killian tilted his head to look at her, holding her gaze, "You need to text him back and not sound so mean. He's just a kid."

"Did I sound that mean?"

"_Mhm_. Rather." Killian took the phone from her hand, "How about we ask him what his name is?"

"Oh, are you going to text him for me?"

Killian grinned at her, "I'm pretty good with kids." He informed her.

"So what's your name, lad?"

"Say _kid_."

"Kid it is then."

**[Text] **So what's your name kid?

"Not so hard, huh?." Killian nudged her in the ribs, giving her a look.

**[Unknown Number] **Henry. So is this really my birth mom?

Emma laughed softly, her lashes fluttering as she stared down at the phone. "Tell him maybe. Ask him if he knows where he was adopted from."

"See, look at that you're doing fine." Killian assured her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before turning his attention back to the phone.

**[Text] There's a chance I might be. Do you know where you were adopted from?**

**[Unknown Number] **Arizona.

"Oh my God." Emma breathed out, glancing towards Killian. "I know enough about the woman who adopted him to know that this won't play out well. She _hates_ Mary Margaret and everyone she knows."

"How is she going to find out who he's texting?" Killian narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you going to tell him yes?"

"I don't know." Emma admitted. "It's not like I'm going to rush off up to Maine to connect with him. I gave him up because I didn't want him."

"_Emma_."

"_Killian_." She retorted back, elbowing him I the ribs. "What do you propose I do?"

"Talk to him." Killian urged her. "What would you do if your parents texted you?"

"I would probably yell at them for leaving their newborn on the side of the road."

"_Touché_. I'm sorry that happened to you, love." Killian whispered, stroking her arm gently. "I don't even have a rationale for why someone would do that to their kid."

"Twenty-seven odd years and I haven't even come up with a decent excuse for them. At least I had the sense to put him up for adoption and keep him out of the system." Emma looked back down at the phone, chewing on her bottom lip. "My fingers are still shaking."

"Do you want me to keep texting for you?" Killian questioned, tilting his head as he looked towards her.

"If you don't mind." Emma chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You know, if you weren't here right now, I wouldn't be doing this. I'd just ignore his texts and keep running from that part of my life."

"Seems like this little weekend of ours was perfectly planned." He drawled out with a warm smile that made her heart flutter.

"You're a good man, Killian." Emma whispered, her voice wavering as she inhaled a shaky breath. "A lesser man would have jumped ship already."

"_Why_? Because you have a past, just like every other person in this bloody world? Love, you've got to start surrounding yourself with better men." Killian told her, his fingers playing through her hair.

"I don't think I can find another you." Emma retorted before she could stop herself. Her cheeks flushed red and she ducked her head. "Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say, I'm just stress-"

Killian cut her off with a kiss, smiling against her lips. "I understand, love." He whispered, brushing his lips against hers, cupping her cheek gently. "I know what you mean."

"_Good_." Emma brushed her fingers over his stubbly jawline, bumping her nose against his before she pulled back, looking down at her phone. "Tell the kid that it's nice to hear from him and that I'm glad he has a good life and… that I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

**[Text] **I'm glad you've got a good life and that you reached out to me, but I don't think it's best if we talk, kid.

He handed the phone back to her with a reassuring wink. "There you go."

"Thank you." Emma said sincerely, glancing down at her phone as it vibrated. She swiped the message open, her brows furrowing as she read the message. "He said _okay_." Emma lied, adverting her gaze as she tucked the phone away in her purse. That was far from what the message said, he'd told her that he was unhappy and that he wanted to run away from Regina. Nurture versus nature – he sounded just like her.

"Excellent." Killian squeezed her leg. "Ready to keep walking around?"

"I need that slushy first." Emma forced a grin, holding her hand out for the drink. She needed a hit of sugar to boost the mood she was sinking into. "Then we can go play games before we head back to the apartment."

"Think we can swing the motel I'm staying at to grab my luggage?"

Emma pursed her lips, "I don't know, I was planning on holding you hostage in this one outfit."

"That's cruel." Killian laughed, "I have to make sure I have my uniform when I leave town."

"_Shh_, let's not talk about you leaving." She scrunched up her nose, slurping on the straw. "We can get your stuff _if_ you win me something."

"Oh, I'll win you something, one way or the other." Killian promised.

And he followed through. They left the carnival an hour later with Killian carrying a giant stuffed Captain Hook. It only took twenty bucks and ten different games to finally win her something, but he was bound and determined to be a man of his word, even when she told him he didn't have to keep wasting money on her.

By the time they drove across the city, got his luggage, and drove back across the city to her apartment, night had fallen over Boston.

"Unless you want to make us pancakes again, we're going to have to order delivery." Emma told him as she unlocked her apartment, holding the door open for him as he dragged his suitcase and the giant plushie into her place. "Thanks for winning me my new cuddle buddy." She teased as she shut the door behind her, dropping her keys off on the kitchen counter.

"Don't replace me with him until _after_ Monday."

Emma pursed her lips, "I don't know," She looked between him and the stuff man, "He's pretty sexy, I might not be able to resist."

"So you have a thing for perms and waxed mustaches."

"_Maybe_!" She laughed, running her fingers through her hair. "Peter Pan just happens to be my favorite Disney movie."

Killian dropped his suitcase off beside the sofa, turning back around with a pensive look as he looked her up and down. "Makes sense. Given what I know about you now."

Emma grimaced, "You know _way _too much about me now. It's a miracle that you're still here."

"I told you, I liked a challenge. You're a pretty big challenge."

She laughed, rolling her eyes at the stupid face he made. "Alright weirdo, what do you want to get delivered? Pizza? Chinese? Thai?"

Killian scratched at his chin thoughtfully, "Pizza. I'm starving though, so order two and we can eat the left overs for breakfast."

Emma scoffed as she stepped into the kitchen to grab the menu. "I was expecting breakfast in bed tomorrow."

He grinned at her, "I can reheat the pizza and bring it to you in bed." Killian told her, his eyes sparking with mischief.

"What a gentleman." She said dryly, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "What do you want on your pizza?"

Killian tilted his head, "What do you eat on yours?"

Emma shrugged, "Depends. I'm not a huge fan of meat on my pizza though, the spices are way too much."

"Do you like white pizza?"

"Are you sure you're not gay?"

Killian narrowed his eyes, "Did I fuck like a gay man? Wait don't answer that, I don't want to know."

Emma laughed, "Definitely not." She assured him, a grin lighting up every feature on her face. "I love white pizza. I'll get us one of those and a cheese and mushroom pizza."

"Order quick, I'm starving. I might die of hunger."

"So dramatic." Emma said with no small amount of sass as she watched him flop down on her sofa, acting like he'd been shot or something. "You seemed so normal last night."

"There's no preambles now, I can just be myself." He called to her as she went into the bedroom for her laptop, returning to join him on the sofa. "Oh, so you're one of those people?"

"What people?" Emma questioned, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye as she logged onto the pizza website to place their order.

"You could have just called them."

Emma kicked his leg, "Shut up. I like watching the little meter that tells me they've finished making it." She told him, gesturing to her computer screen. "Come on, it's cool, you have to admit it."

"What do I get if I admit it?"

"Are we on some sort of reward system now or something?"

Killian gave her a look, "You started it with your offer of getting my clothes if I won you something."

Emma snorted, "Yeah and I told you after half an hour you could quit and I'd still get you your clothes."

"Then you would have held it over me that I'd _failed_ you."

"Sure I would have, buddy." Emma retorted with no small amount of sass in her voice.

"You _wouldn't_ have teased me about not being able to knock those bottles down? Because I'm fairly certain you _did_ tease me for not being able to knock them down." Killian nudged her in the ribs. "But that's alright, because I get to tease you about ordering delivery online."

"It's _super_ normal." Emma feigned offense. "I didn't see you whipping your phone out to order."

"You pretty much told me not to learn your address, how would I have ordered pizza?" He cleared his throat, putting on his best attempt at an American accent, "Just, um, deliver the goods to the parking lot of a place somewhere in Boston. I'm being held hostage by this woman who orders pizza online."

Emma gave him an unimpressed look, even as she found herself starting smile at the ridiculous look he was wearing. "Keep talking Killian and you're going to find yourself on the sofa tonight."

Killian grinned at her, "Oh, the sofa was _very _kind to me last night."

Emma scrunched up her nose, shaking her head. "I see why you're single now. At first I was trying to figure out why a handsome guy like you was single, but now I get it. You're _weird_."

"You haven't had that much an issue with me being _weird_. You must be _special_." He drawled out, leaning close to her, almost close enough to kiss her, but neither of them bridged the gap.

"Maybe I'm crazy too." Emma offered, her eyebrows quirking upwards with the suggestion. "I mean crazy attracts crazy after all."

"Is that the saying?" He questioned, "Maybe you made me crazy."

Emma pushed her fingers through his hair, ruffling up his dark hair, before she turned her attention back to her laptop. "Look at that, they've put our pizzas into the oven."

"_Fascinating_." Killian gestured to the laptop, "Do you have Netflix on that?"

"What next – are you going to ask for my Wi-Fi password too?" Emma handed the laptop to him, "Here you can queue up whatever you want us to watch while we eat. I'll go grab us a beer."

"We have shit service on the ship. I'm behind in _Game of Thrones_."

Emma gave him a look, "Depending how behind you are, I'm pretty behind myself."

Killian eyed her as she got off the sofa, "Last thing I saw was the bear scene."

"That's about where I stopped watching 'cause work got busy."

He arched a brow, "Do guys really jump their bail that often?"

"You'd be surprised." She commented as she headed into the kitchen, grabbing both of them a beer, before she returned to the living room. "How's the pizza doing?"

"Delivery boy Joseph has it in a car." Killian looked up at her, "Don't worry, I didn't look at your address."

"Good." She said as she sat down beside him, passing a beer his direction. "See, this is what I'm talking about, I could deal with something like this in my life."

"What?"

"Beer, pizza, and Netflix."

"_Alone_?"

Emma smirked, "Maybe, maybe with someone."

"Ah, so have I got you out of your slump."

She shrugged, "I guess." Truth be told, after he was gone, no matter how amazing this weekend had been, now she was ruined for other guys. She wasn't going to find herself another Irish Naval officer, who got her on a level no one else ever had.

Killian reached over and squeezed her hand, "You've helped me too." He had to be an idiot if he hadn't heard how halfhearted her answer had been.

"I'm sure you'll find yourself a great girl in your next port." She stated, shaking his hand off hers. "But let's not talk about that. I don't share and for right now, you're still mine."

"This possessive thing of yours, it's incredibly hot."

Emma laughed, "I'm glad someone thinks so." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, nipping playfully at the curve of his jaw, before she was off the sofa and answering her door. She returned a minute later with the pizza boxes. "Here you are hungry man."

"Thanks _beautiful_." He said to her as he took the boxes from her, opening them both up and laying them out on the coffee table in front of them. "Does your computer hook-up to your t.v.?"

"There's an HDMI cord over there." She told him, platting up their pizza for them. "Netflix works better than that damn cable."

"It's better than nothing."

"I can't even imagine being out at sea without entertainment, I mean… when I lose power it's bad enough." She leaned back against the sofa, "I always wanted to live on a boat."

"It has its ups and downs." Killian informed her as he joined her on the sofa again, biting off a mouthful of pizza as he turned the episode on. "Depending on where you go, it's pretty easy to get cut off from society."

"Have you gone to the Middle East?"

He shook his head, "Just the islands, east and west coasts, and a brief stint in Japan."

Emma gave him a sidelong look, "You're going to have to put your uniform on for me before this weekend is over."

Killian laughed, "Oh, have you got a thing for a man in uniform?"

"What do you think?" Emma retorted, turning her head to give him a heated look. "I'll try not to ruin it."

"Please don't. I do not need to get in trouble for that."

"Wouldn't want you to be reprimanded by anyone but me."

Killian gave her an incredulous look, "I'm really starting to worry about what you're going to do with me tonight."

"Just you wait."

Once the pizza was packed away in the fridge for tomorrow and their empty bottles were thrown away in the trashcan, they returned to the sofa to finish off their third episode of _Game of Thrones_. Instead of acting on her mischievous promises to him, Emma fell asleep on a pillow on his lap, while he played with her hair. Maybe that was what they _really_ needed from another person. Someone to ride Ferris wheels and play carnival games with: someone to curl up on the sofa and watch shows with.

She dreamt of driving down by the coast with Killian in the passenger seat and the boy from the picture in the backseat. Killian and _Henry_ were teasing each other about Captain Hook and Peter Pan – talking about some sword fight the two of them had had with wooden swords they picked up from some museum gift shop. She was happy – listening to the two of them go at it with each other, their playful little jabs making her laugh again and again.

The two of them faded away and the laughter became silence. She was alone in her bug with her box of belongings in the passenger seat. Even her dreams reminded her that she was better off alone. He was going to be gone in two days and Henry – well, she had no intention of ever seeing the kid in person.

It was better that way.

Emma woke up, rising from his lap slowly, not wanting to wake him up. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, draping it over him as she rose to get up.

"_Emma_."

"It's okay Killian." Emma whispered, her fingers brushing over his cheek, smiling fondly at the half asleep man.

He blindly reached for her hand, "Stay with me." He asked her, "I won't hog the covers."

Emma laughed softly, chewing on her bottom lip. "I can't do this Killian. I'm afraid of falling." She told him, her breath catching in the back of her throat as his eyes snapped open, those hazy blue eyes of his meeting hers.

"Having a broken heart isn't a bad thing Emma, because it means it still works." It might have sounded harsh to others, but that made complete sense to her.

"I'm going to bed." She muttered, ducking her head as she steered herself towards her bedroom. "Come with me." Emma said, lingering in the doorway, relieved to hear the shuffle of his feet as he came to join her.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: **This chapter was an absolute monster to write. Firstly, it's super super smutty. Sorry, not sorry. There were two "endgames" I toyed with, but at the root of it, the ending was still the same. A part of this fic was inspired by a location I went to on vacation that I absolutely fell in love with. Look it up when you get to that part – it's absolutely magical there. I digress, this is the final installment of this little work, though there's a chance for a _real_ epilogue if there's enough interest in it. I have absolutely loved writing this and it's been so much fun to read your responses! Thank you!

* * *

In two days she'd shared more about herself with Killian than she'd shared with any of her closest friends. It was so natural to be with him, to open up and reveal herself to him, in between moments of passion and tender companionship. She was already dreading tomorrow and the next day as she pieced her life back together and moved on – without him. She didn't believe in God or some divine entity that ruled her life, but she was starting to believe in fate, because Killian had shown up in her life at the right moment.

She didn't wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking, she woke up enveloped in the warmth of his arms with her face pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing in the sweet scent that was distinctly him. It was spicy and warm and she wanted to memorize it, so she could call on these memories on some rainy day, when she was all alone.

Because she'd keep running – that was who she was, who she would always be, and no amount of encouragement would ever shake her from that. Emma Swan didn't settle down. Maybe she'd move again, find some quiet place by the sea to rent for a year, before she came back to the city, if she ever did.

She'd never had a _home _before or even a place that had felt like it really. She liked Boston enough and it wasn't the ache of its absence that always called her back to it. Home was supposed to be something you _missed. _Perhaps she'd miss it this time or miss the person she'd met in it.

Her apartment had always felt too large, too much space just for her. But with Killian there beside her, her apartment felt _homey_, like a space that had been made for two. And she knew these weren't the sort of thoughts she should be having, these were exactly the thoughts that she shied away from. That didn't stop her from laying there in the early hours of the morning, picturing a life for the pair of them in her apartment, like a little girl writing her name beside her crush's surname.

Even when her past had reared its ugly head, Killian didn't even flinch. Most guys she knew would have cleared out after the shocking revelation of her having a child and even then her little meltdown last night would have scared even the most fortified off. But he held fast and continued to _encourage _her, something that she'd been sorely lacking in her life. Emma figured he was just being such a gentleman because he knew he'd be free of her and this screwed up life of hers by Monday.

Though, if he were just here for the sex and fun like they'd originally planned, he was going about it all wrong, because he hadn't seemed the least bit disappointed about yesterday lacking in that department. Which had actually been one of the best days of life, all things considering. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy and free.

That was something she really admired about him. He let her lead.

Emma curled closer to him, her lips brushing the underside of his jaw, enjoying the prickle of his scruff against her lips. She looped her leg over his, bringing her just that much closer to him. She had never been one for this – she didn't get close, physically or emotionally, but with him she couldn't get close enough.

"_G'morning_." Killian mumbled. His voice was low and rough and his accent that much thicker with the haze of sleep still clinging to him.

"Good morning." Emma whispered, brushing her lips along his jaw again. "Did you sleep well?"

"Aye." He tilted his head just enough to catch her lips, leaving them both a little breathless as he pulled back. "Did you?"

"Dreamless, but good." She admitted, her fingers playing over the dark hair that covered his chest.

Killian smiled at her, his hand coming up to cover hers. "Today's our last day together, you know."

"I haven't forgotten that fact."

"How do you want to spend it?" He squeezed her hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to the center of her palm.

"With _you_." Emma retorted with no small amount of sass in her tone.

"Well, I surely hope you want to spend it with me, considering that's what this weekend was about." Killian pressed another kiss to her palm, flicking his tongue out against her skin.

Emma wiggled her hand from his hold, returning it to his chest, only to trail her fingers much lower this time. She traced the line of hair that ran from his navel to his groin, smirking at him impishly. She scooted down the bed, taking the sheets with her as she moved to straddle his legs.

"_Emma_." Killian rasped out, lifting his head to look down at her.

"What? I'm spending the day I want to." She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, holding his gaze as she cupped him through the thin materials of his boxers. "Just think of it as pay back for all the doting you did our first night." Emma had given her fair share of head in her life, but generally it was because the guy asked for it – Killian hadn't, which made this all the more of a turn on for her.

She pressed her hands against the mattress at either side of his hips using the bed for support as she bent down to trail a row of kisses from is navel to the waistband of his boxers, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin, only a hint of what was to come for him.

His fingers tangled in her hair, his grip tightening as she brushed her lips over his erection through the fabric of his underwear. She smirked at the low growl like sound that came from him in response, enjoying the power she had over him in this position.

Emma popped one button loose and then another. His fingers tugged at her hair in anticipation and she robbed him of that relief. "Easy there _handsome_." She drawled out, leaning up to kiss his stomach just below his navel, letting her teeth scrape his skin teasingly, her tongue darting out.

"Bloody minx." Killian hissed out through clenched teeth, his free hand balling the sheets up between his fingers. "Anyone ever tell you it's not nice to tease?"

She laughed. "Trust me Killian, I'm not _teasing_. I have every intention of sucking you dry." She was blunt and from the way he rocked his hips upwards, he _loved_ it. The sheer look of desire she found in his eyes went straight to her core. Emma cupped him through his boxers again, applying more pressure than before.

"_Emma_."

Her eyes flickered upwards to his face as she popped the last button of trousers, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. "Is that better Killian?"

Killian's head fell back against the pillows and he groaned something that sounded like her name, "You have no bloody clue how fucking hot you are." He said lowly, tugging at her hair again, scrabbling for purchase as her fingers wrapped around the base of his cock.

Emma bit her lip, looking up at him with the most innocent of looks as she stroked his shaft _painfully_ slow. "Pretty sure only _you_ think that." She told him as she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the very tip of him. She hummed gently, her tongue swirling around him as she did, knowing that it would have quite the effect on him.

Her fingers curled around his shaft, working her hand up and down his length in tandem with the movements of her tongue. The words that slipped past his lips set her blood on fire. A combination of her name said in variations of groans and pleads, intermixed with curses and dirty demands that made her ache for him.

She pulled her hand away from his cock, her lips releasing him with a wet _pop_ only long enough for to catch her breath. Without warning she wrapped her lips around him again, taking him into her mouth until he was hitting the back of her throat.

Emma groaned around his cock, showing him no mercy as she worked him. She loved the way he responded, the vain attempts to rock his hips upwards, the low guttural sounds he made, the sharp tugs he gave to her hair that only fueled her desire for him.

There really was no going back from him. After he left her life she was going to be utterly ruined for all other men. Where else would she find a man that wanted her the way he did, the way she wanted him in return. You couldn't tell her that Killian hadn't gotten off on getting her off, the same way she was doing this for him.

"_Close_." Killian grunted out, his voice strained and desperate. Before that word would have signaled that it was time for her to go back to jerking him off, but she was intent on sucking him dry just as she'd told him.

She didn't relent, picking up the pace of her movements, bobbing her head at a rhythm that had him flying over the edge with very little warning. He gripped her hair so tightly she was fairly certain he was going to pull away with a fist full of her hair. There had to be something_ very_ wrong with her, because the pain turned to hot streaks of desire that went straight to her core.

Emma pulled away with a very unladylike smack of her lips.

"Come here." Killian beckoned her back up the bed, his eyes still hazy with lust and desire. "You're a bloody wonder." He breathed out, cradling the back of her of her head as he pulled her down for a kiss. She let herself get lost in the kiss, their tongues meeting and tangling, exploring each other's mouths.

Her fingers delved into his thick dark hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He groaned against her lips a sound that went straight through her. She wanted him hard again. She _wanted _him.

"I _need_ you." Emma murmured against his lips, leaning in to kiss him again. She could spend the whole morning kissing him, the whole rest of the day if she were given that choice. The rest of her _life_ – though she'd never say it out loud.

Killian broke the kiss, his hands curling around her hips to hold her steady as he sat upright, his knees curling behind her back, keeping her planted firmly over his groin. She could feel him between her legs, rebounding from what she'd done with her mouth.

"You need to have less on."

"Oh, do I now?" She quipped, pushing his hands off her hips, moving to get off of him. Emma made fast work of clothes, leaving her slip shorts, underwear, and thin tank top in a heap on her floor. She opened her nightstand, pulling out a condom with a devious grin. "Think you can handle me?"

Killian smirked at her, "I don't think _you _can handle it." He countered, shoving his boxers off the rest of the way. "Hand me that."

Emma laughed, rolling her eyes as she tossed him the condom package. "What? You don't want me handling _little willy_ again?"

He snorted, "There's nothing little about me."

"Keep telling yourself that buddy." Emma teased as she moved back onto the bed, peppering a line of kisses over his shoulder as he rolled the condom on.

"You're going to be terrible for my ego." He drawled out as she moved to straddle his lap. "Calling me _little_."

"The male ego, so fragile." Emma retorted with a shake of her head. She looped her arms around his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him. "You're _very_ well endowed, Killian." She told him. "And you're _gorgeous_." She lowered herself into his lap, letting his length press against her slick heat.

Killian groaned, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter. "Someone got _wet_ blowing me." And the smug grin that appeared on his lips faded away as she rocked her hips, grinding down against his erection.

The banter between them didn't even stop when they were about to fuck. Their playful jabs at each other were no different now than they were when he'd teased her about how she ordered her pizza. It was the sort of situation you read about in romance novels, not the sort of thing you actually got to experience in real life. But she wasn't going to say no, because – she had to admit, it made sex all the more fun.

"Maybe I just woke up wet." She countered, arching a challenging brow as she traced her fingers along his collarbones. "Maybe I had a _really _good dream."

Killian narrowed his eyes at her words, "I better have been the leading man in that dream."

She couldn't tell if it were _real_ jealousy or jealousy for the sake of this little game they were playing. But the look in his eyes, the way his fingers pressed into her skin a little harder, told her more than enough.

"Of course it was you." She whispered, her lashes fluttering, her lip trembling against her will. "It's always going to be you." Before he could say anything she kissed him. Her fingers found their way into his hair again and she kissed him as if her very life depended on it.

She knew he could read her like an open book. He knew that he had her stripped bare and vulnerable. He had the rare opportunity of seeing her for who she really was. He wanted her, whether she was closed off or exposed.

How was she going to say good-bye to _this_?

"_Killian_." Emma breathed out as she broke the kiss, pressing her forehead against his as she reached between them, lifting up enough to guide him to her center. She sank down onto him, a whimpery sort of moan passing her lips as she began to move.

He shook his head, brushing his lips over hers, holding her hips steady. "Easy there, _beautiful_." Killian whispered, trailing his hands up over her waist. "We're not in a race here."

Emma laughed." Oh, we're not?" She tilted her head and kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip.

"Don't abuse this power." He teased, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her pebbled nipples. "Or I'm going to have to take control."

Emma's eyes widened, "I'd like to see you _try_." She swallowed the moan that rose up in her throat, arching into his touch.

There was very little ceremony about the way he rolled them over. Her legs stayed wrapped tightly around his hips, even as he slipped out of her with the movement.

"I think I just did." Killian retorted, dipping down to catch her lips. She lost herself completely in the kiss. The man could kiss and he did so with something that felt like that dangerous little _L_ word.

Emma gasped against his lips, those thoughts fading away as she felt his fingers sliding between her slick folds.

"_Fuck_."

"Plan to."

But first he seemed intent in making her lose all coherent thought. Two fingers pressed into her, as his thumb assaulted her clit. Emma arched up off the bed, her head falling back against the mattress.

Her hand curled around his wrist, fingernails biting into his skin, but that didn't deter him. She kissed him. Hard and desperate, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, scraping over it until she was damn certain he'd be bruised there tomorrow.

Her release hit and her back bowed against the bed. He didn't give her a chance to recover before he filled her again. Emma couldn't tell if she were still riding the waves of her first release or if the steady rock of his hips had her coming again. All she knew was that she didn't want to give this up.

Her nails bit into his shoulders, leaving angry red marks in their wake as she scraped them down his back, seeking purchase somewhere. Anywhere.

"_Killian_." Emma breathed out, her lips brushing against his. There were words on the tip of her tongue that she knew she shouldn't say, that she shouldn't even think. She swallowed them back, shoving them down – refusing to let them out.

"I know." He whispered against her lips. Of course he did. He knew her as well as she knew herself.

Emma placed her hands on either side of his face, leaning up just enough to claim his lips. She was close to what she was fairly certain was her third orgasm, which seemed like a feat of mythical proportions. He had angled his thrusts just right, driving forward against that sweet spot within her that had her dangerously close to the edge.

She cried out against his lips when it hit. Her legs tightened around his hips and her fingers curled around his biceps for support. Killian tensed above her as his own release hit, slamming home one final time before he let his weight collapse atop her.

He started to pull away, but she tightened her hold. She relished his weight pressing her into the mattress beneath them. She wanted him as close to her as possible, while she still had him to hold.

Killian nuzzled her neck, making her laugh when his bristly cheeks rubbed against her skin. She played her fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of the strands slipping between her fingers.

"After all of that exercise, I'm _starving_." Emma lamented, her voice light and amused.

Killian laughed, "It's a good thing you ordered two pizzas last night via the internet." He brushed his lips along her jawline. "Coffee and pizza actually sound really good right now."

Emma smirked, "Especially if you intend to be up for a round two."

"There's going to be a round two?" Killian smirked, bumping his nose against hers. "You sure you're up to that love?"

Emma trailed her feet down the backs of his calves, "You clearly don't know what I'm capable of." She licked her lips as she looked up at him. "But first, we need to eat and refuel."

"I'm going to go clean myself up, you can go reheat the pizza."

Emma scrunched up her face, "Easy there, my house my orders." She gave him a stern look. "I'm going to go reheat the pizza while you clean-up." She grinned, barely unable to keep from laughing.

Killian rolled his eyes, "_Women_." He forced himself off of her, flopping onto the bed beside her, before he got up.

Emma pushed her fingers through her hair as she sat up, eyeing him as he walked across the room. "Go clean up _Little Willy_."

Killian stopped dead in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder at her, "You are _not_ calling it that."

"Alright," Emma crossed her arms across her chest, pressing her tongue to the inside of her cheek. "_Big_ Willy."

"You're not going to give my bloody cock a name." He insisted, his voice rising upwards and his accent was that much thicker. He was even hotter when he was frustrated. The way his brows furrowed together and his voice got more Irishy.

Emma pouted, before she chucked a pillow at him. "Go get cleaned up weirdo."

"I'm not the one naming cocks."

"Cock_s_. There's more than one here?" She really enjoyed winding him up.

Killian flashed her a wicked look, "I bet there _is_ another cock in here somewhere. Underwear drawer?"

Emma picked up a second pillow and threw it at him. "Shut up."

Killian stopped in the doorway, "You can call that _Big Willy_."

"It's _not_ big enough for that title." She retorted with a wink.

He vanished out the doorway with an undignified snort. She listened to the sound of his bare feet as they thumped against the wooden floor before he reached the bathroom.

God, she was going to miss him.

Emma finally convinced herself to get out of bed the rest of the way, moving over to dig around in his suitcase – which she probably shouldn't have, but she wanted one of _his_ shirts. She found one, a button up white shirt that didn't seem like it was part of his uniform. He had about as much in his suitcase as she did when she went from place to place and she couldn't help but wonder if this was all that he owned.

There was nothing in his suitcase that left her wary. There was a little picture of the woman she presumed was the woman he'd lost. Killian looked a good few years younger than he was presently and the woman, well – she was significantly older than him and she didn't lack any… She didn't know what to call it, but the woman didn't seem as happy as Killian did in the picture. Which was sad, because he was a hell of a guy and there was _every_ reason to be happy with him.

But then again, she was fairly certain if she had any pictures with Neal – they would look the same. She'd given a full 120% of herself into that relationship and he'd given her maybe 30% of himself.

She tucked the picture back into his suitcase where she'd found it. His shirt fit her perfectly, covering all of the important parts. But most importantly, the shirt smelt like him. If she was lucky, she might be able to steal it and keep it – a little something to remember him by.

By the time that Killian got out of the bathroom Emma had the pizza reheated and plated up. The coffee was brewing – two cups, unlike yesterday when she hadn't wanted any.

"Hey gorgeous." Killian drawled out as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle.

"Hey yourself." Emma retorted, leaning back against his chest. She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to the underside of chin. She couldn't help but marvel at the way it felt to be with him, to experience domestic bliss.

"My shirt looks good on you." Killian told her, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "But your legs are going to be quite distracting while we eat."

"_Good_." Emma retorted, making a point to rub her bottom back against his groin playfully as she pulled loose from his hold. She sauntered across the kitchen and poured the coffee into the mugs, bringing them over to the stools along the counter.

"I thought you didn't drink coffee."

Emma felt her cheeks go red. She didn't, not really – only on rare occasions. "I don't break my rules either." She told him, flashing him a smartass little smile.

Killian bit off a bite of pizza, arching his brow as he looked towards her. "A changed woman."

"Are you a changed man Killian?" She countered, not wanting to admit to anything, even though it was true. She was irrevocably changed because of him.

"You're not the only one who's going to have to be satisfied with _dreams_." He gave her a pointed look before taking another bite of pizza.

Emma smiled to herself, hiding her face behind her coffee mug. "I bet those would be some very _good_ dreams."

"Not quite as good as the reality, however." Killian stated, giving her a wry little grin.

"At least I'll have Captain Hook to cuddle with." Emma retorted, matching his grin with one of her own, never missing a beat with him. "Though, I have a feeling he won't be as _good_ as this guy I know."

"Handsome bastard isn't he?"

Emma's brows shot up, "He's okay."

"I wasn't talking about me." Killian said dolly, barely containing the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You're always looking for ego stroking aren't you?" Emma rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her pizza. "Should I just pick-up a mantra to repeat when you want a good ego stroking? Tell you how big you are, how hot you are, how you're the _best_ a girl can get."

Killian laughed, "Sure, why not."

"Figures." Emma teased, kicking at his leg playfully. "You _are_ all of those, just so you know."

"I'm flattered."

"You _should _be."

"It's amazing." Killian narrowed his eyes, "I never knew that someone could wake up so full of piss and vinegar."

"You haven't seen anything yet." Emma countered, tilting her chin upwards haughtily.

"Better start showing me, because time is ticking away for us." His words brought back the realization that he'd be gone and this wouldn't continue on indefinitely. Which was probably for the best. One of them would grow bored of the other, tired of the constant playful jabs, and it would run its course. She kept telling herself that. Lessening the blow.

Emma scarfed down the rest of her pizza, licking her fingers clean, giving him a sidelong look. "I've shown you a lot already." She stated, curling her hands around her mug. "More than anyone has seen before."

"You've seen more of me than anyone has either, Emma." He informed her, resting his elbows against the countertop. "Milah, the woman I lost all those years ago, was _wonderful_, in a sense, but she never cared about me."

She'd been right. That woman had a stony look about her.

"I don't know how anyone could be with you and not want to know about you. It makes the whole package."

Killian snorted. "I only got dark and interesting after her death. I was still a day-drunk asshole back then." He shrugged. "Past me and past you would have gotten on quite well I think."

"A drunk and a thief meet in a bar… Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke." Emma grinned at him. "Are we a bad joke?"

Killian sighed, "Maybe? I'm sure people would find this whole situation comical."

Emma ran her fingers through her hair, chuckling softly. "They'd probably think we were kidding if we told them about our arrangement. Think we were talking about some made-for-tv movie."

Killian laughed, shaking his head. "It's quite the story."

She started to speak, her gaze dropping down to her empty plate. "How do you want to spend the rest of our story?"

"I don't care, honestly. So long as I'm with you, love." Killian assured her, reaching over to take her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "What do you want to do?"

"I want you to read the phonebook to me." Emma said with a mischievous grin. "Because your accent sounds particularly amazing this morning."

Now was her turn to make _him_ blush. He ducked his head in a very bashful way, scratching at his scruffy cheek. "The entire phonebook?"

Emma smirked, "I wouldn't say no." She held his hand tighter when he started to stand up. "I'm kidding. Seriously." She pushed herself off the bench, tugging him closer to her. "I actually wouldn't mind just… spending the rest of the day with you in bed." She admitted, ducking her head to hide the crimson color her cheeks had turned.

Killian rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "That sounds like a _wonderful_ way to spend the day." He agreed. He released her hand and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a hug that made her heart skip a beat and her breath catch somewhere in the back of her throat. She sank into the embrace, nestling her cheek in the hollow curve of his shoulder.

She played with the hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying the way the dark strands felt as they slipped through her fingers. It was strange to feel so _content_ with someone. As content as she felt, she was nowhere near sated, and to avoid the awkward rush of emotions she felt, she turned her attention to back to _sex_.

Emma brushed her lips over his bare shoulder, trailing them upwards to find his pulse point. She had to push herself up onto her toes to reach the spot where his shoulder met his neck and she could feel the steady thump of his blood beneath her lips.

Killian's hands slid down her back and she could feel the warmth of his palms through the thin material of the shirt she wore. His fingers found the hem of the button up. She inhaled sharply when his hands made contact with her ass, swatting her playfully.

She pulled back from the kiss, her nose bumping against his. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She breathed out, her hands sliding over his bare chest.

"That your kitchen counters over there are the _perfect_ height?"

"_Bingo_." Emma kissed him again, a breathy groan lost against his lips as his hands returned to her ass. He hauled her upwards and her legs went instinctively around his hips. She could feel him pressed against her center through his boxers.

Her fingers delved into his hair, tugging at the thick strands of hair as she kissed him hard. They were both going to have bruised and battered lips by the end of the day. And she didn't care. Not one bit.

Killian walked them backwards, taking his sweet time. She had never kissed someone before that kissed her the way he did. Like he intended to completely devour her with a kiss alone. His hands smoothed over her back, gliding over her waist, his thumbs barely brushing the undersides of her breasts.

Emma tore her lips away from his, gasping for breath as her ass hit the countertop. She perched on the very edge of the counter, her legs still wrapped tightly around his hips. "You know, when I picked this place out, it never crossed my mind that these counters were the _perfect_ height for sex."

"See, that's because you didn't have _me_." Killian retorted, his voice lower, rougher, and all the more Irish.

Emma's heart fluttered at his words, a faint smile creasing the corners of her lips, but she pushed away the well of emotion, and focused on the situation at hand. His teeth scraped over her collarbone as his fingers worked to undo the buttons of the shirt she wore. Emma reached down between them, palming him through his boxers.

Her head fell back as his lips assaulted her pulse point, his tongue and teeth making their mark on her pale skin. She'd have a hickey tomorrow. One that she'd have to explain to her friends. She didn't care if he marked every inch of her skin, because for one last day she was _his_.

Emma pulled her hand away, her fingers finding their way into his hair once more as his lips trailed down the valley between her breasts. He had the shirt pushed over her shoulders, exposing her to him. "Is this what you want _Swan_?" There was something about the way he said her surname that made heat rush through her system.

"_Yes_." She managed to get out as he took her breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around her nipple as his hand cupped her other breast, making certain that it received ample attention. Her fingers fell from his hair, gripping the countertop for support, her back bowing to press against his mouth. "Fuck _Killian_."

"Soon." Killian growled against her skin, his tongue swirling over her nipple one last time before he turned his attention to the other breast, paying it the same toe-curling attention as the other.

Emma inhaled sharply as she felt his fingers between her thighs, taking her by surprise as he slid them between her slick folds. His thumb circled her clit, light brushes that only sparked heat and desire, but did nothing to satisfy it.

Her skin felt hot and tight, her mind running with only thoughts of desire and need and _him_. He was so bound and determined to give _her_ the pleasure and the satisfaction, which was a rare trait when it came to the sort of men she'd been with.

With no further preamble, two fingers delved into her, hooking them just right, pressing against that sweet spot within her. "_Killian_." She panted out, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder, her nails biting into his skin. Emma could feel her stomach clenching, the beginning flutters of her release.

She felt overstimulated and _amazing_. His mouth and his fingers coaxing her to the edge and letting her soar straight over. She cried out as she came, her back arching backwards, fingernails scraping his shoulders, hips rocking into his hand.

"I need _you_." Emma gasped out, fumbling as she reached down to shove his boxers down his hips.

He pulled her to the very edge of the counter, his firm hands curling around her hips, holding her steady. Emma caught his lips, kissing him as though her life depended on it, as she guided him to her center. Her muscles were still clenching with the effects of her release and it only aided to the sensation of having him filling her completely.

If she let herself slip into fanciful thoughts, she would have said that he fit her like he'd been made for her. His hard angles fit her softer curves and not just when it came to sex. She'd marveled at how well they fit together in bed, how he curled around her, and she fit against him.

Like before, she couldn't tell where one orgasm ended and the second began. He made it seem so _easy_ to make her come undone, pushing her from one release to another. She had never felt so utterly wrecked in her life. She clung to him as though her life depended upon it.

Killian came with a low groan, her name breathed out against her shoulder. He rode her through her final release that left her breathless in his arms. She held him tightly, pressing herself as close to him as she could, given the way they were positioned.

Those word welled up in the back of her throat, weighted words, that held _so_ much meaning. But she swallowed them back and pushed those thoughts from her mind. They had agreed to a weekend ordeal, not something that could potentially last longer than that. His obligations lay with the Navy and his goals to become something that his brother would have been proud of. He wanted to be a Captain and she wasn't going to help him get there – she would only be a hindrance. That's what she was going to keep telling herself, that it was the best for _both_ of them.

"You're bloody amazing, you know that?" Killian whispered, brushing his lips against her throat.

Emma laughed. "You're not so bad yourself." She pulled back gently, her hands sliding over his shoulders. "Are you _always_ this giving?"

He grinned, leaning in to catch her lips, "I do enjoy making sure that my lady is pleased, but… I've gone above and beyond with you."

She flushed, which was stupid all things considering. There was something about the way he looked at her, like she was the only person that mattered in the entire world that left her red and breathless. "You're _really_ good." She stated, dropping her gaze to avoid seeing the way he was looking at her.

"I try." Killian retorted with an easy laugh, his hands settling at her hips. "Why don't you and I head back to bed?"

Emma's brows creased together, her eyes widening. "Are you the energizer bunny of sex or something?"

Killian snorted, "While I might be, I was actually intending for you and I to _rest_." He squeezed her hips, "If your legs can work."

Emma rolled her eyes. "My legs can work _perfectly_ buddy." She pushed at his chest to make him back up, before scooting off the counter. For a second there she was fairly certain her legs were going to buckle as her feet hit the floor. She was going to be sore tomorrow, in all the best ways.

"You alright there, love?" Killian quipped with an all-too-pleased with himself smirk.

Emma's hands went to her hips and she might have looked like a formidable force, were she not standing there completely naked. "You better watch that tone Killian." She said firmly, making up for her small, naked, stature.

"Or _what_?"

Her eyes raked over his own naked firm, tilting her head thoughtfully. He really was a remarkable example of masculinity. "I don't give up my plans." Emma turned on her heels then, heading out of the kitchen and into her living room. "Get in here, you're watching _The Princess Bride _with me."

Killian groaned dramatically, sulking into the living room after her. "Is this your punishment?"

Emma laughed, "No it's not. This is, however, payback for you mocking me for how I order pizza." She told him, narrowing her eyes. "I haven't decided how to punish you for your attitude."

It was _so_ easy to play like this with him. It was easy and natural. She loved the way they could go from sex to teasing each other to sex and back again.

"You're a very cruel hostess." Killian lamented as he stretched out on the sofa beside her. "You should _try_ to be nicer to your guests."

Emma gave him a sidelong look, "You just keep digging your grave."

Killian leaned towards her, his lips coming close to her ear, "Maybe I _like_ it when you're almost yelling at me."

"You are unbelievable." Emma retorted with an exasperated laugh.

"Oh, I know I am."

Emma gave him a look, "I can't tell if I want to slap you or kiss you."

Killian thought for a moment, "I prefer the latter."

"I prefer the latter too, but that doesn't mean that's what you get." Emma scrunched up her face, before turning her attention back to the t.v. screen. "Now hush, I love this movie."

"You love a lot things."

Emma tensed. She couldn't tell if he was just playing with her or hinting at her to admit to the feelings that were weighing on her chest. The muscle in her jaw ticked as she studied the television, giving him a noncommittal shrug in response.

Maybe he hadn't been hinting at it, because he didn't push it any further.

"This isn't _that_ bad of a film." Killian admitted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "It could be worse, it could be the _Notebook_."

Emma laughed, "God, I wouldn't watch that if you paid me to."

"Too sappy?"

Emma tilted her head to look up at him, "I'm a coldhearted bitch," She said, barely able to control her laughter. "I _hate _sappy."

Killian grinned at her, "I have noticed that about you. You're a terribly mean thing." He stroked her arm, pulling her in closer to his side, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm going to miss you _Swan_."

Emma smiled to herself, "I might just miss you Jones, however the jury's still out on it." She _was_ going to miss him more than she wanted to admit openly. Tomorrow was going to suck without having him in bed with her. In two nights she'd gotten pretty used to having him there to curl up with. Which was completely out of character for her. She just hadn't met the _right_ guy until Killian swept into her life.

Emma had had her sexual encounters down to an exact science. She had rules that she lived by that kept her all walled up and protected from getting hurt. But Killian had managed to sidestep every rule, except the last. She didn't do relationships and this would never amount to one. While she wished she could just play the whole thing off as just a weekend of good sex, it hadn't _just _been sex. She kept rehashing that fact over and _over_ again. Just sex was easy to untangle yourself from, but sex that was _more_ was not something that was easy to walk away from.

She could already feel those walls of hers rebuilding. The very walls that Killian had done so well with tearing down. She was disengaging, pulling away from all of those emotional connections she'd formed with him. It was the knowledge that she could be _very_ happy with him that made the quickly approaching parting hurt even worse.

With Neal she'd never had a good-bye. But hey, she'd got juvie record, a baby, a car, and a hell of a lot of sunburn while she'd sat around waiting for him to show up in Tallahassee. No good-byes, no apologies, just a bunch of unanswered questions. This, with Killian, had the potential to hurt worse than it had with Killian, even though she'd known the beginning-to-end plan from the start. There hadn't been promises or plans or love involved with this. But there could have been if she'd just been willing to sacrifice more of herself. That was one rule she was never going to break.

"You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm just thinking."

Killian's fingers skimmed down her arm, pulling her closer to him. She didn't resist. Her head rested on his shoulder and she sank into his side. "Care to share?"

Emma shook her head, her eyes fluttering closed when she felt his lips on the top of her head. "You're a good man Killian." She told him. "I have no doubt in my mind when I say that you're going to make someone _very_ happy when you find the one for you."

Her head and her heart weren't in accordance, they were both screaming at her like the angle and the devil on her shoulders. Her heart wanted to be greedy and jealous and claim that _she_ was 'the one', while her head reminded her of all the reasons they _couldn't_ be together.

Killian shrugged his shoulders, combing his fingers through her hair, "I don't know, love." He started, his tone thoughtful and… she was certain that it sounded _sad_. "I'll probably just throw myself back into work and do everything in my power to climb the ranks."

"I'm sure you'll rank Captain in no time." Emma assured him, reaching down to take his free hand, lacing her fingers with his. "Maybe you'll get stationed somewhere _really _nice."

"Perhaps I will be." Even without looking at him, she could tell by his tone that his words were half-hearted. "I'd say that you'd make some man very happy, but… we both know that's not what you're interested in."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "I think I'm going to take a break from all of _this_ and just focus on work." She admitted, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. "This weekend should last me… about a year?"

Killian grinned down at her as she tilted her head to look up at him. "And you call _me_ ridiculous."

"I'm just stating the facts." Emma retorted, giving him a mock-serious face. "I think you broke me this weekend."

"I don't think I've broken you _enough_." Killian smirked, tugging her onto his lap.

Emma's lashes fluttered as she felt his erection there between her thighs, separated only by the blanket they'd thrown over their laps. "Look at that, we're back where we started." She steadied herself with his shoulders as she rocked against him teasingly.

"I thought it was appropriate." Killian quipped, his own lashes fluttering as a groan slipped past his lips. "There are things you do with your hips that are just… _damn_."

Emma grinned at him, leaning in to steal a kiss, her teeth scraping over his bottom lip. "I had a very short stint as a stripper after I got out of jail." She admitted, her cheeks going bright red with embarrassment and partially with shame.

Killian flashed her a wicked smirk that went straight through her, making her grind down against him, seeking whatever friction she could get. "We're _insatiable_, aren't we?"

Emma scraped her nails over his chest as she leaned into kiss him, "We _are_. We better get our fill while we still can."

"Oh, I plan to." Killian's voice was low and rough as his hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers stroking her slick, needy, skin without warning, before he was delving two fingers into her, making her squirm on his lap.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon wound up in each other, making every last minute they had together still _count_. Exhausted and sated they collapsed into her bed late in the evening. She relished his weight as he laid atop her, his arms curled beneath her at the small of her back. Her face was pressed into the curve of his neck, where it stayed for the rest of the night.

Morning came.

His phone alarm clock woke them up to an eerily cheerful tune, as they pried their aching limbs from her bed, and made the most of their last few minutes together. Killian made breakfast like he had their first morning together, scrambled eggs and toast, with coffee. They talked and laughed as if today was no different than the past two mornings.

For the first and the last time Emma got to see him in his dress whites. His hair was slicked back and his scruff was shaved off. A simple shave had made him look ten years younger and just as handsome as he'd been before. Not many men could pull off looking drop dead gorgeous no matter how they wore their facial hair.

"You look _incredible_ Killian." Emma told him, her voice a little more strained and breathier than she'd intended for it to come out.

His cheeks flushed red and he shifted on the balls of his feet, "Thank you, love."

"Are you _embarrassed _Killian Jones?" She teased, trying to play off the awful knot in her stomach that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

"Perhaps I am." He countered as he shouldered his duffle bag. "Do you want to drive me down to the docks or do you want me to catch a cab?"

"I'll drive you." Emma said, perhaps too quickly. "It's not that far away, after all." She swallowed thickly and ducked her head as she grabbed her purse and her keys, and headed for the door. "Have you got everything?"

"I think so." Killian said simply, stepping past her as she held the door open for him. "Trying to deny me the honor of being a gentleman, there, love?"

Emma laughed, "I was being a good hostess."

"_Mhm_."

The ride to the docks was more painful than she expected. It was almost like the ride down to the carnival on Saturday, only it lacked the same easy natured, laughter-filled conversations they'd shared that day. Instead it was like they'd put on their _real_ personas, the sailor and the bail bonds person. She wore the tight red dress she wore so often, planning to use the rest of the afternoon to track down the guy she'd missed out on snagging Friday night. She had to throw herself back into work today or she was fairly certain she'd have some sort of breakdown once he was gone.

They were both holding back, she could tell that much from the way he kept clenching his fists and picking nonexistent lint off his pristine white pants. _It was for the best. It was for the best_. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact.

Emma debated over whether or not she should get out of her little bug once they arrived at the docks. Her heart won out over her heart this time. On unsteady legs she followed him as far as she could go.

They didn't speak.

He kissed her one last time. He cupped her cheek, curled his arm around her back, and held her to him like he'd never see her again and he wouldn't. Killian pulled away, his impossibly blue eyes meeting hers with unspoken words. He wasn't pushing her. This was all her choice.

Her lips parted, but she closed them quickly, ducking her head.

The words died on her lips. She couldn't say them. Not before and definitely not now. They burned in the back of her throat, but she wouldn't say them. The weight of what they meant, what they could bring was too much for her.

She had dreams and hopes and being with him would limit her – it would limit him. But he had taught her to dream and brought hope back into her life.

Killian's fingers trailed over her arm, reassuring her without words. It felt like entire conversations could occur with them, without a single letter passing their lips.

Emma lifted her head as he pulled away, heading past where she couldn't follow. She watched him walk away. He didn't look back.

**~one year later~**

A year had slipped by since her weekend with Killian. Memorial Day rolled around again and passed without incident. Work continued. Life continued. But she still felt the change that had come from her time with him. Her friends saw it, they teased her about her "mysterious" lover that they were so certain she'd had while they had both been out of town. She brushed off their comments, pushed the weekend behind her and moved on, like she always had.

She had always been so good at running, but this thing – that weekend – she knew she couldn't run from it forever. She kept hoping she'd see him again. She studied the back of every black haired man's head in the city of Boston. She stared at naval officers a little longer as they passed her on the street.

But they were _never _him.

"Oh _fuck_." Emma swore as she pushed through her apartment door. She hobbled, finally kicking off the offending pair of heels. "One day they will just take it like a man and not fucking run." She lamented, tossing her purse and her keys down on the kitchen counter as she moved through her apartment.

Luckily, despite her unfortunate heel break, she was done today unusually early and she wasn't about to begrudge that fact. She never got to come home on a Friday before noon. Her plans? _Sleep_.

Emma collapsed onto her bed with an exhausted sigh, rolling onto her stomach to put her phone on her nightstand, just as it vibrated. She flopped back onto her back, holding her phone up to read the message.

If it was work, she was going to scream. There was no way in hell she was going to do another case today.

Her brows shot up as she read the text message.

**[Unknown Number] **Hi Emma! I know it's been awhile since I texted you, but you wouldn't believe who I met today!

"_No_." She breathed out in disbelief as she reread the message a second time. All day she'd had this feeling, like something was going to happen. Somehow she just _knew _who the kid was talking about. She felt it in her gut. The minutes slipped past and she stared at the phone.

If she just laid the phone down and took a nap, she could wake up and pretend she'd never got it. But it vibrated again and she couldn't resist the urge to read the message.

**[Unknown Number] **Alright, I get it you don't want to text me, so I'll just tell you. I met a friend of yours Killian Jones. He's a friend of my mom's boyfriend. Did you know he works in Kittery? He said he was respecting your privacy by not coming to find you. He got pretty banged up in war, he told me he went to Iraq not long after he said bye to you.

She couldn't keep running. Emma sighed heavily as she started to type out her message. There was a spot in Kittery that she had always loved – a spot that was a little more secluded, despite being a popular tourist trap.

**[Text] **Tell him to meet me at the Fort Foster. I'll be there by four.

There were sixty some miles between Boston and Kittery and it took over two hours to get there, thanks to traffic and the little winding roads that bridged the route between her and him.

She had only been there once before, when Mary Margaret had forced her to go up there for a weekend to 'get away from the city and just relax'.

Of course Mary Margaret had neglected to mention that David was coming and Emma spent most of the weekend playing third wheel. But she'd loved that little area of shoreline, where artists sat under trees and painted the horizon, enjoying nature and its beauty. It had been the perfect place to escape from reality for a few hours.

Emma pulled into the gravely parking lot, hastily pushing in her two dollars of patronage into the little money receptacle. The ocean and the view were just as beautiful as she remembered them being. A rocky coastline and ocean as far as the eye could see. The wind swept over the hillside, carrying with it the sweet scent of the ocean. What she wouldn't give to live by the sea.

She pulled herself from the beauty of her surroundings, scouring the small hillside for _him_. Emma's eyes widened when she spotted him sitting on one of the memorial benches looking out at the sea.

"Killian!" She shouted as she moved towards him. Her heart was pounding in her chest as he turned to face her. He was just as handsome as she remembered. Still the image that she saw in her dreams.

"_Emma_." He rose to his feet and cleared the distance between them. It felt just like a movie. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest. "God I've missed you." Killian whispered, his lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

She squeezed him tightly, pressing herself as close to him as possible. "I never thought I'd see you again." Emma told him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She didn't know how she'd ever walked away from him. For a year she'd felt like part of her was missing and now, she _finally_ felt complete again.

"You almost didn't." Killian pulled back from the hug, his beautiful blue eyes seemed haunted now.

Emma cupped his cheeks in her hands, leaning up to kiss him. It wasn't the sort of kiss to incite passion, but the sort of kiss that sought forgiveness. "Henry told me you went to Iraq. What happened?" Her thumb brushed over the rise of his cheek, her brows furrowing together.

"I don't really remember, that whole week before it happened is still pretty hazy." He admitted, casting his gaze downwards. Emma followed his line of vision, catching sight of what was different about him. She could feel him tense, his shoulders going to stiff. "I woke up in a hospital bed without my left hand. Funny how that can just happen." The slight edge of sarcastic humor wasn't lost on her, she knew despite how callous it sounded, it was a defense mechanism. She wasn't above the same behavior.

Emma reached down and curled her fingers around his right hand and the prosthetic hand, not caring if it were real or not – it was part of him. "I'm so sorry Killian." She whispered, at a loss for the _right _words to say to him. "I should have been there for you." She regretted the past year more than ever now.

Killian laughed softly, shaking his head. "You really wouldn't have wanted to be there. Trust me. I was moody and surly and pretty much everyone I knew reminded me of that fact _all_ the time." He widened his eyes for emphasis. "I'm better now. It's been almost a year." He squeezed her hand with his good hand. "So, how do you know about this place?" Just like he had never pushed her into conversations she didn't want to venture down, she didn't push him.

Emma smiled up at him, "My friend Mary Margaret dragged me to Kittery with her boyfriend a few years back. I escaped my terrible fate as third wheel by sitting out here for nearly the whole day."

"I come up here to think." He explained, using his prosthetic to push her hair behind her shoulders as the sea breeze blew it into her face. "It's peaceful up here."

"Isn't it?" Emma leaned up and kissed him again, before she pulled back just enough to speak. "You don't have someone do you?" She questioned, suddenly panicking that she was imposing on something he'd started with some other woman. Maybe some nurse that had been there at his side, someone who had helped him during his recovery.

"_Well_." The smile on his lips and the light in his eyes told her otherwise. "I might have someone."

"Oh?"

"She's gorgeous, blonde, everything I have ever wanted."

"Sounds strangely familiar." Emma smirked. "So why is it just _might have_?"

Killian bumped his nose against hers, "It just depends on whether or not she wants to be with me."

Emma kissed him then, smiling against his lips. "_Yes_." She pulled back from the kiss and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "She was stupid before, she should have gone after you but she was scared." Emma's fingers played through his hair. "I love you Killian." Those words were long overdue.

"I love _you_." Killian replied, kissing her again, making up for lost time.

She pulled back from the kiss, "How did you meet Henry?" She had so many questions

"That is a very good, very _short_ story." Killian chuckled. "Regina's boyfriend, Robin, frequents my favorite little seafood joint. He invited me to join them for lunch today. I recognized the lad straight away. I asked him if he'd talked to you and he said he hadn't heard from you since the two of you texted last year." He narrowed his eyes. "Didn't you tell me that he said he was happy?"

Emma swallowed thickly, "I _know_ I lied." There was no point in avoiding the truth – the kid had clearly told him.

He smiled at her reassuringly, "He's happy _now_. Apparently his mother and Robin started seeing each other shortly thereafter and she mellowed out a fair bit." Killian tilted his head, "If you come up here with me, you're going to have to meet him."

Emma laughed, in awe of the entire situation. "I swear to god, this is like some movie. My long lost kid and the guy I'm in love with live in the same damn city."

Killian pulled her in for another kiss, "Am I the Wesley to your Buttercup?"

Emma grinned up at him, "A bit more like Captain Hook now."

He arched a brow, "Has he been keeping my side of the bed warm?"

"_Your_ side of the bed, huh?"

He flashed her a charming grin that made her heart flutter, "I mean, unless it's someone else's side of the bed or something."

Emma shook her head, "Just Captain Hook's." She gave him a pointed look.

Killian laughed, a hearty, _happy_, laugh. "Ironic, isn't it? I won you a one handed pirate and now you've won yourself a one handed sailor."

"Rather serendipitous if you ask me." Emma curled her arms around his shoulders, stepping closer to him. "I love you Killian."

Both of his hands settled at the small of her back, Oh, I've _always_ known, love."

"Still cocky." Emma jested, tugging at his hair playfully.

"You're just going to have to learn to deal with that, lass."

Emma sighed affectedly, "I'll try to survive."

~o~

One of the many painters that gathered at Fort Foster left for the couple a gift. She'd seen their reunion and was inspired to paint what she saw. They found the painting in the front window of a shop as they walked hand-in-hand along the main stretch of the town. A little note sat next to the painting explaining what the artist had seen that evening. The young woman and her sailor, like some scene torn from the pages of a book.

She gave the painting to them. It hung over the sink in their small little apartment that looked out over the sea.

Henry visited often, Killian worked a desk job with the Navy, and Emma found a job with the police department – which was slow and quiet and nothing like what life would have been like in Boston. She wouldn't have had it any other way. She got her story book ending.


End file.
